The clock of life is wound but once, and no man has the power to tell just when the hands will stop, at late or early hour. Now is the only time you own. Live, love, toil with will. Place no faith in time. For the clock may soon be still.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Eeeks
Look at Mocca, lying on my favourite doormat.
He's bald. I'm horrified with his new look.
I thought he was another dog.
I didn't know my dad brought him to the "stylist".
Look at Mocca, lying on my favourite doormat.