Or honk. I haven't decided yet. Or it may be a little bit of both.
In eight minutes I have to shower (unless a song holds me a bit longer) so I may once again be presentable and undetectable within a given proximity. Therefore editing will be at a minimum.
But I digress.
At eight thirty this morning I will be eating a grease pillow and chasing it with coffee as preparation for three hours of examining and discussing the art of young aspirers (aspirants?). This will be followed no doubt by sandwich stuffing on bread that is hard on the fascia cells before another four hours of look and yadda yadda. Oh, I do so enjoy it. Truly.
That takes care of the first part. But before that I must make the trip, and a look out into the mercury-lit yard shows a bit of frost.
In rush hour traffic. To and fro.
So, there you have it.
Oh, and tomorrow, more yadda yadda with just the fro.
(14 minutes.)
3 comments:
I hope, with small real hope, that entering will be worth more than the participation for the redistribution of wealth.
Dividends.
I see. Hope shattered then. I am following the execution of a plan concieved with interest and admiration. I was doubtful for a period, but you've pushed the correct buttons and twisted the knobs and yanked all the levers. Go.
word verification: pater
(don't laugh as I did. It'll spoil the effect)
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