The lawn ornaments are restless.
The Golden Pin Shrine Remains Unmolested.
G.G. Undervicker was caught by a frenzied mob trying to get candies out of the Alligator Machine. The Alligator Machine is owned and operated by Charles Landowher. He maintains it for the students of the alternative high school in the area. Its candies are not for grownups. They contain far too much sugar for a man to easily metabolize in this mechanized modern world and would surely advance any existing diabetic conditions. G.G. Undervicker did not care. He feared not the future. A future spent tied to a bed with bayou doctors sawing off limb after limb in a fruitless race against the diabetes while old G.G. blindly gobbles raw sugar cane and drinks Faygo sodas smuggled in by undisciplined orderlies. So Judge Walker decided on behalf of all of us, as he so often does, to banish G.G. to...
Opened the curtains on the door wall and the hot tub has been filled with sand. Not kitty litter. Fine, powdery sand. I suspect it was done by the gopher community next door. That species has never let go of the colonizing mindset.
The bigger question is where did the hot tub come from?
People say I have an unreasonable obsession with envelopes. That I horde too many of them. That those I do horde are irregularly shaped and colored and so rendered largely useless for everyday mailings. People accuse me of spending too much time in stationary shoppes, disturbing their window displays without permission. That I am too concerned with the glue and folding of my neighbors' envelopes and ask too many awkward questions about them during dinner parties. That I far too often attempt a citizen's arrest when I receive mail from these neighbors sent in an unsatisfactory envelope. People say I'm only interested in storing photographs of stuffed animals in my envelopes. YOU ARE ALL INVITED TO COME DOWN TO MY RIVER BENCH AND HELP ME TAPE THOSE LITTLE PIECES OF CELLOPHANE INTO No. 5...