Hoo. The updates got away from me there for the past . . . what, since August of oh-ten. I believe the idea is to put something on here more frequently than every 8 months.
I was on a black ops mission. Real hush-hush. Didn't have a secure line to update the site and couldn't compromise the mission. But I've managed to elude the border guards in a certain unstable country and smuggle my way out in a container full of toaster ovens. So democracy is safe once again and I can resume the important work of posting here items of great relevance.
So. Where was I. Oh yes. I went back in the photo annals to pick up where I left off and found this dispatch torn from a newspaper that I got from the recycling center as fire-starter for my wood powered hot tub.
Thank the stars this story caught my eye, otherwise you and I would both have missed the -- no. I can't make sport of this. It's tragic. More than that. Horrible. The stuff of nightmares. Except nobody would think up such a thing.
He did not go doing what he loved.I mean . . .
"No evidence of foul play," could have taken the day off in this case.
How deep is that septic tank?
That's all I got. I could dwell on this, but would rather not.
Good day.
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