GETTING FRIED

Yesterday was incredibly nasty. It was hot and bright. And too many people exclaimed that it was a gorgeous day, can you believe this weather, oh how lovely. Those people were rabid slime and I hope they boil in hell for an eternity. By around seven o'clock in the evening it was far more bearable -- low sixties -- and despite there being too many folks underdressed exposing their pink puffy flesh because of underclothedness, this blogger felt well enough to venture out with a pipe and some tobacco.


It might hit mid seventies today. Time to work on your suntan.
At present it's mid fifties and just about perfect.
And the breakfast pipe tastes fine.


A weird sounds contest: hacking and hairballs when you smell my tobacco while walking your nasty yippy terrier. Or is it an ugly turtle? A carved buddha? Please hurry up and make it poo, so you can get out of my life.


I am not drawn to sunlight.

DRYOCAMPA RUBICUNDA, SMOKING A PIPE

I have bushier eyebrows than a female, which allows me to sense their pheromones, if Wikipedia is to be believed. Which may not be entirely accurate.

At this stage in my life I am mostly solitary

Apparently I am partial to maple trees, including red maples, sugar maples, silver maples, and box elder maples, as well as oak trees.



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