Spitball Army

I check the time on my wrist and notice the date. In digital form, it appears a brand on my skin, a match to the one on my memory.

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The Doctor comes around every day and asks you how you feel. The answer is always the same – “O.K.” or “Pretty good.” That’s my treatment.

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Um, sorry, I meant Nutjob.

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To be fair, I did see two candied fruit loaf factories as I drove through Claxton on 25 August 2010.

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Having a cat is like living near the beach, she said. The kitty litter gets into everything. – Written by @Ralphley.

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As you probably know by now, I was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time.

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The band in heaven: upright parlor piano + scratchy violin + glass beer jug octet + accordion + angel chorus of Glenn Gould-style humming.

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Card is titled: “FISHING IS GOOD IN MAINE.”

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Fred FM is playing hooky today.  Please read a book, mow the lawn, barbecue a small animal, or visit baseballmusings. [audio:Mason_Jennings___Nothing.mp3]

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I just wanted to let you know that I’m O.K.

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