I, I, I, I

I is tired of dragging itself to the game like an old mitt found in somebody’s attic.  I sees everyone else, for years even, with the latest glove, some even dyed blue.  That’s taking it too far, the blue thing.  I just wants one where the ball pops into the sweet spot with a preordained sigh.  Yer out.

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One response to “I, I, I, I

  1. Louis Bixenman

    Ai, caramba!

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