Gibberings
Dad told me never to use XTREE when he wasn’t in the room.
July 18, 2008 ~ 09:59:10 PM * -07:00ST
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Log # 372
‘Pon the Road
I like the lone sunflowers on the median.They mark the step of some pied trucker, some Johnny Sunflowerseed, chomping and spitting robustly.
The milky muffle of the basin atmosphere fools me and for a moment, ravine walls peel away, and it looks like I’m going somewhere beautiful.
70 miles to Los Angeles, gentlemen. One hour to stow your valuables, strap up your smokesuits, prime your breathers, and smooth your cilia.
The milky muffle of the basin atmosphere fools me and for a moment, ravine walls peel away, and it looks like I’m going somewhere beautiful.
70 miles to Los Angeles, gentlemen. One hour to stow your valuables, strap up your smokesuits, prime your breathers, and smooth your cilia.
Should I really be texting on the freeway? No. Suggestions for Palm text-to-speech, anyone?
I am currently on this system’s desert world, as previously indicated, and burning through filter cartridges faster than is reasonable. Inside the bunker, machinations of the literal kind are afoot as I scramble to catch up with Etsy backlog. My printer took a huge shit, you see. And as usual, I am left holding the scoop.
