And so things dance.
I like my dice.
Also, I like thrift stores. I have bright yellowness in vestform.
Tiffany sings a lullaby to th cat in th other room. I find this strange. Now she deposits th cat upon my shoulders & commenses to shower, & so I shall continue blogging.
That I do.
Perhaps not much to say have I. Th weather's nice & I miss riding my bike, Suzanne, who broke months ago & has sat in my kitchen.
I just finished reading Rosencrantz & Guildenstern are dead, which I did yes enjoy. A play, we can call it, much in th same vein as Waiting for Godot, which I also read recentlyish. In soon future times, I may do readings 'pon plays by Euripides, my favorite of th classical Greek dramatists. For fifty cents did I purchase six plays by him at stores of thrift.
On Friday past, George & I & others saw a so-so show at th Empty Bottle, a neat underground club nearby. I enjoyed doing stuff, even if I found th band somewhat lacking. It would benefit me to read less & get out more, I think, especially in upcoming times of weathertastic nicefulness.
And so things dance.
I hope all do doings in wellness & I say hi & so forth & such.
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