Spanglechaff.

Why spanglechaff, you might ask? Why not, I reply.

Let's get one thing straight. I am absolutely, beyond a doubt, daft.

YAY!

All I can think about, now that I have finished reading it, is Thomas Pynchon.

"Hunter, the woman is jealous of oatmeal."
"You just wait." the princess looking coldly at the porridge. "Soon you'll be cold and congealed and not too appetizing." Holding her ear close to the bowl so that the contents can make their reply as her breakfast companion waits calmy with milk and spoon.
"That is surely a breakfast past-time.", replies Hunter.

WOW! I typed that from memory, so it isn't verbatim. Close, but READ THE BOOK to find out the proper glorious quotation.

In E. N. O. news, I have no news. I have not progressed an adjective since last I mentioned it. No problem, I've time.

Backgammon: Things go... less than desireably. Pfui! I'll get up there soon enough.

Enough? That doesn't look right. I suspect that it isn't. But, whom can tell?

If the desire exists, I MAY give an excerpt of E. N. O. at some point. But, as it is being written by hand, I'm not sure that I will. I could take a photo of it and post that, but I doubt highly that any one but I (and maybe not even I) could possibly read my famous writing. We'll see.

MINDLESS REPITITION! I was in the room with my father as I played backgammon and listened to Philip Glass' Einstein on the Beach. "How can you listen to that?!" "To quote a violinist, There is change, but it happens so slowly, so infrequently, that any change, no mater how small, is hugely cataclismic." Well said.

This post isn't very good. I'm stopping.

To close, a Lymmerick.

The Lymmerick above this is crap,
Just like what is playing now: Rap.
But unlike the noise,
My poem has poise:
And that is one hell of a gap.

I wrote that as during the half-time of a basketball game, in my position as member of the Game Staff at Dawson. One of my better ones, I think.

Cheers.