a propos of nothing


Scattergories: (1) The vagaries of syllabi have me in a biRichardal weekend: Hugo, who you will remember from the POET FOUND IN THAW, and Wilbur, Mr. Pyrrhic Spondee, himself. (2) I am going to a production meeting, the first one in a long time. I understand that you don’t have to come out of retirement if you’ve never entered it. The Cat and Fiddle it’s not, but we will still manage to meet about something related to production. (3) Don’t call it a salad: couscous, cucumbers, green peppers, raisins, and chopped peanuts. And a lot of lemon juice and pepper. And with wilted spinach and leftover chopped-up potatoes on top of it. Add more lemon juice. (4) Free puntitle: “Blank Hearse.” I am going to give one away every Saturday.


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