Thursday, March 04, 2004

Seeing Eye Bird

Sonora was nice. Quiet. No noise at all (except for the cat jumping onto the bed). Lots of stars shimmered for me in the deep blue sky. Stuffed peppers were munched. Frost coated my car's windows in eerie fractal like patterns. Smoke rose out of chimneys, only to get stuck against an invisible ceiling and spread out flat. Rod Stewart rasped out of speakers. Scantron bubbles were filled. Extreme disappointment in the voters of California condemning the people of my generation to even more massive debts and setting a poor precedent for bond usage was experienced. And a first pair of glasses were picked by a young man.

I hope that by the time, if ever, I go blind, I can get a seeing eye bird, rather than a dog. I don't particularly care for dogs.

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