Maybe I'm fightin' somethin' off? --We've had various sorts of whooping whatever goin' around at the Skunk Works, including a variety that turns tenors into baritones. Presumably it would turn a contralto into Phyllis Diller but who wants to find out?
Whaddevvah. Pried my lazy self from the sack promptly at 0830, or was it nine? Ate what we had handy -- oatmeal, coffee. Scrubbed up, geared up, stuffed a magic-heat dealie in my sweatshirt pocket, got out the scooter and toodled to the bank, getting the usual surprised look from motorists, it being coldish despite the sunshine. Stopped off t'the market and picked up ingredients for basic breakfast hash (bacon, eggs, taters), returned home, cooked, ate, and have done zilch since other than laundry, which is not hardly really even work. Still sleepy!
Well, there's always Sunday.
T. R. MCELROY'S STREAMLINED TELEGRAPH KEYS
1 year ago