glum for ducks, gaga for zuniga

They drained the fountain at the University of Washington for "renovation," and now at least one pair of mated mallards has taken to wandering the campus. Last night I saw them outside the undergraduate library, paired in a tiny puddle left over from days-ago's rain. I was so filled with sorrow at the pitiful sight of these poor creatures, so dependant, so disinherited, that I could barely keep from weeping on the #43 Metro bus home. Finals week looms, Mike and family have returned to the motherland, and I am fragile as duck eggs, I guess.

Until I have anything worth digesting posted here (observe the Chinaman's chancy cows freezing over), do please examine with my hearty blessings the worthy work of Cheeto Zuniga, a brave new alias for a brand-new age of the same old bullshit. Here's hoping you make a mighty habit of this, mang, as your posts thus far are brilliant, the return of a bold voice long missed up Northward wayhereabouts. Dig.