January 22, 2004
CANADA BOUND
My flight leaves in ten hours, then it's a week on the slopes (no, I'm not going to a Thai brothel. It's Laotian). Not to worry, however, as I've passed out keys to a few of my closest velocibuddies, who will no doubt keep you far more entertained than my feeble efforts of late.
In fact, in keeping with my theme, it appears I have the makings of a classic western unfolding in my absence. Let's see, there's the very hot, tough but tender schoolmarm (for discipline!), the exotic, sexy, been there and burned your ass saloon owner, Black Bart (to receive discipline!), and an existential drifter. Also, I believe, a surprise guest blogger to pop in now and then in the role of the U.S. Cavalry. Those are the players, the plot is theirs.
Iffen I get my shit packed in time, and the rare worthwhile thought oozes down my homo habilis hairline, I'll splay it out. Otherwise, I'll be thinking about you, craven rubberneckers faithful readers.
To my guests, do what you will. I can't stop you anyway. And at least one of you owes me some serious payback.