Are We Rolling? The Meters Say We're Rolling

Dusting off the microphone and tablet, entering data for the first time in awhile. The Hottest Day of the Year Ride, writing lessons, lets all go for beers after the ride is over. Get into arguments with neighbors about trimmed limbs. Say it over and over to yourself until the words bend and twist, and you can't recognize it as English Anymore.

Trimmed Limbs
Trimmed Limbs

Not changing gears before ascending pedestrian bridges, little pods of transit, like in the future of the 1950s, like flying cars and robots that glug and churn, spitting out data on a white sheet of paper, like all the future is little white paper, scrawled with unintelliglbe inscriptions.

Peridontal Gum Disease. The highlighted letters tell you it might mean tooth loss, but not if you follow these few, simple rules:

Never trust technology. Conduct all meetings in secrecy, never rely on who you are when you are asleep or half awake.

Don't post blog postings until you have a clear-cut idea of what you want to say.

Recipes for disaster:
One parched lawn
Fireworks
Organic chacrcoal that spits embers
Orange tape and wooden stakes
Someday, as a society we will all eat nothing but cous-cous