|Wait put my what in the box now?|
I heard there was this really cool party in Chicago--at Wrigley--in preparation for tonight's start to the series where everyone (quite a few Phils fans, in fact) talked about goats (more on that soon) and how they hung out at the beach by Navy Pier and ate Ann Sather cinnamon rolls and wore ZWR shirts for the television networks who happened to be taping the get together.
The Nag and I watched The Bachelorette (I need to be up on things for my review with Spike Eskin and Craney) and read magazines. I made a smoothie. I wonder what Roy did? Another night off.
My buddy sent me a note that he made some really good garlic cheesy bread. Huh. Another friend listened to A Seven Syllable Midwife, the new album by that band with Ira Glass as their lead singer. December-something?
So many ways to fashion a summer night, you know. Be it love or passion otherwise, there’s a freedom to it.
|WHAT'S IN THE BOXXXXXXX???!!!!!!!!!|
Ah, but to end the pondering. Washington, our nation's capital, Transitus Non Escalatarum, I commend myself to you.