Not stupidly short. Inadvisably brief, would be how I'd describe it. I got back five hours ago and I'm still capable of typing. Up yours, Dolores. I'm totally whatsit. Lucy . . lucifer ... match . . football . . . jumper . . . July . . . Jules ... Juicy ... Lucy ... lucid. That's it. I'm totally 100% lucid.
Time marches on. Not really. Creeps, dashes, crawls, runs, sprints and then gets on a fucking maglev train.
I need to catch up with the shit telly I missed in those four nights away. Here are some pictures
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2 comments:
I know just where those yellow tanks are.
Stan,
they are quite distinctive, aren't they?
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