David

I'm keying while hearing the audio of a PBS presentation about Michelangelo.

I'm in an alcove adjacent to where the Sony Screen is doing what Sony Screens always do.

You've heard of Michaelangelo, right?

(I doubt that any trump morons would ever read this blog, but one never knows.)

Yata, yata, yata, yata.

It all nets out to DAVID.

That statue.

Two places in Florence.

My wife and I saw both of them.

One is down in the nucleic Florence City Center.

Yeah.

Really big statue of a perfect human male with a surprisingly small penis.

But I guess other agendas were being served.

With that statue.

We saw it and went and got a glass of wine.

On a subsequent day we went to see the other one.

It's on a hill.

We walked up that hill.

There were all sorts of charming things there strewn here and there on the walk up that hill.

The best thing were the goldfish ponds.

I love goldfish.

One of that sort of person lived with me in 98118 until one morning she was dead.

I buried her under the pines in front of the house.

I cried.

Quite a lot.

The really good thing about the ponds up the hill to David was that you could see the fish.

We got up top and looked at David.

Magnificent.

I preferred the goldfish.