Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)
Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.
This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.
Monday, November 17, 2003
Recipe for Misery
One pound of gravelI have something. I don’t know what it is, and I suppose I should be grateful it’s not accompanied by a 212 degree fever and jet-propelled excrement, but it is something, nonetheless. It started creeping over me during the car show, and was fully formed along about mid-day Saturday. It has stayed with me, and although the congestion and coughing is unpleasant, at least there are the weird, half-awake dreams it produces. Who needs peyote?! Anyway, I am at home today. After I type this, I am going to crawl under the covers and sleep the sleep of the dead for about ninety-eleven hours.
See you all tomorrow with Tales of the Car Show, Getting Sick, Soccer, Fur in my Head, and I don’t know what all else.
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