Time is on my side but I'm growing any younger sitting here in the anti-squalor of my psuedo retirement pondering the musings of a muse long since erased from the nomenclature of our daily grind. I can only ignore the fly tickling the hair within my ear for so long before I grow weary of 6 legged insects. Is waldo really bobby fisher? Did JR really get shot? Was aphrodite really mighty? I digress gracefully in the half light of the office canyons seeking the elusive checkmate whilst sipping tazo from a lame x-mas gift mug from CH Robinson that I snagged on my final exit from the bonds of my flat paved hell. I long for emoticons not yet known to mankind and wonder if they wil ever show up here.
Dude, are you in town?