Mom said if I went to my high school reunion I'd be disappointed, but I am already. I'm the Disappointed Cowboy, riding alone by moonlight. Not even Mom talks to me any more.
The moon came up over Miami last night. I wasn't there. Got better stuff to do these days.
I had a chance to spend some time howling at the moon recently, but still haven't heard anything back from it. Will have to check my email again after lunch.
Captain Automatic came by with a wedge of cheese. It's apparently the new spicy pork flavor. Imported. From somewhere exotic. I'll let you know. For now though, I'm only poking it with a stick. If it ever stops oinking I may bite it. You'll be the first to know.
Speaking of food, I tried some of the cat's beefy stew mix ("Just add water — makes its own gravy"). Not that great cold.
Now the cat's pissed at me too.
If I had a better car I'd try driving to the moon just to make sure that it isn't really green cheese. But anyway — green cheese? Sounds like a case of improper storage to me, especially when you get to the hairy parts.
Captain Automatic has feathers now. Can't be diet-related, can it? Might clear up with the next new moon. I'm hoping. He leaves a terrible mess behind whenever he comes to visit. And scares the shit out of the parakeets.
Have anything to add? Then email sosayseff+snorp@gmail.com
Me? Mooning you.
