or: Where’d All This @#$%! Come From?
Once upon a time, I kid thee not, everything I needed fit in the trunk of my beat up old Volvo... What happened?
No grab bag this week. Uncle Smitty’s pooped. I’ve been a bad boy, ignoring janitor duty for too long. I’ve instigated a program of nuke and pave. One by one, a room is getting field stripped, detailed and reassembled one piece at a time. Catch is: each piece must justify it’s existence or it’s out the door and off to goodwill.
I’m turning in early. I’m off to dreamland where the Winds of the Watoomb will sweep the house clean by morning... yeah, right...