Looking forward to my pension check for January — $126. The money should hit my bank on Jan 31, 2013. My SS check hits the account a little harder. I am thankful. Life is never fatal. Now I can walk the Tall down my street. Who knows me? It takes time to know anyone.
My slice of the cheese cake may pitiful, but not dangerous. My values are incorruptible; I eat off the land, other peoples land mostly. Books and laptop occupy my life whenever the weed garden soup I slurp almost daily allows me to hold the book up to my face.
In my pocket I have a map that spots treasure — people still hunt for a killing. In Warwickshire, England. lives a very old man who long ago forgot his name. Climb a rope into his attic and buried beneath a mountain of soggy magazines, e. g., scores of Wet Mamas Magazine, Shotgun Wedding Mishaps, et. al. is a well-preserved letter sent by William Shakespeare to his wife, Anne Hathaway. Here’s a great quote from the missive: “The pith and pinch of my stinky feet?”
Shakespeare currently lives in a masssive, ornate church in Spotting Cloth. His partner is Cloog the Saxon, presumptive inventor of the wheel.