I once again have that old, familiar feeling that I'm being stalked by noodles.
I didn't kiss you last night because I'm allergic to nosehair (in large quantities anyhow), and I had to get back to stealing hubcaps.
I didn't see that coming, did you? No idea what it was, where it came from, or where it went. How about you? Hello? Am I alone again?
I don't want to say this too often, but if there is a hole around, someone is going to fall into it, so why don't you walk ahead of me for a while.
I found Sir Edwin Lutyens rooting around in the garden about daybreak today. Died: January 1, 1944 (aged 74). Alma mater: Royal College of Art. Occupation: Wart hog. And he wasn't in a talkative mood.
I bought a clammer today. Got a good deal on it too. It's white. Made by Yang — a Yang clammer. Only $273.46. Now I need to find out what it is.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff+snorp@gmail.com
Me? Ask as often as you like, but I'm not talking.
Etc...
so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
boyb: dave's little guide to backpacks
snorpy bits: nibbling away at your sanity
last seen receding: missives from a certain mobile homer
noseyjoe: purposefully poking my proboscis into technicals
