Abandoned Wells

After a glorious pre-pack through downtown, the Spaniel and I arrived at the live taping. Greeted in full broadcast voice by Todd, we and our bikes were ushered in to meet dads, beer, ginger snaps, and microphones. Lots of stuff out over the air: trick or treat trollers; recycling all of our pixels; trains that cannot be touched; two childhoods versus one; wall of fire; date night or therapy; breast cancer beer; happy? maybe; no boundaries kid until the firm grip ; gestalt is German for shape of an entity’s complete form; soccer fields and abandoned wells; inner locus, not inner locust; if you remember who she is, write a note on a mirror. Despite these generally being the kind of things we Thirsties put rightly aside in favor of laughter and frivolity, this was more than a bit interesting. A few recruits fell in with the EBMB and B*****heart to finish at Tiga. I am told that there was no La Chouffe, as Martin was merely sniffing the ginger. For my part,  I split south and made it “gome by shmidnight”.