Bullshit in the China shop…bullshit the Mexico shop…bullshit in the Canada shop; the excremental TRUMPtorrent  has been restored to center stage and will from now on be unrelenting albeit it’s at least refreshing to know that the presumptive presumptuous fuckwit-in-waiting has declined to sign any agreement regarding ethics or conflicts of interest nor will the Deep State have any say as to which trillionaire asskisser gets appointed to his cabinet of wonder-what-the-fucks.

…or to paraphrase Wm. Burroughs; ‘probably just a trust of giant insects in another galaxy manipulating their human hosts to wreck the earth with radioactive crap so another life form can move in and take over the territory’

“the margin is so thin/between the substance and the dream” – William P. Watson

So our margins here, dinner with Bryan of a Sunday, Enrico on Monday

and an afternoon’s Thanksgiving in a box, which

while Linda heroically faithfully followed the Instructions,

B. and I struggled outside doing our best to fillet the Unexpected Fish I was given Wednesday before all attempted to do justice to the immense amounts of stuffing, brined turkey, potatoes, sweet potato casserole and – the only dish we actually finished – sauteed vegetables, then

ventured down West Second for a small autumnal walk prior to, oh, the Pies for which One House is justly famous.  Bryan took home [sans veggies] at least as much as we three consumed

and Friday came up clear and bright in time for another visit to V-town Kaiser

before working in the first ride as far as the harbor in six months.

It looked to have been a good year for the fennel though by Saturday morning everything

had vanished into the Mists as we swung into preparational mode for a post-Thanksgiving

afternoon of duck soup with [left to right] Tyler, Bryan, Linda, Brenda, Alex, myself and brother

Kirk [see below, as he took the previous two pics].

A time was had, thanks were given and, this being the second Afternoon Event in less than a week, L. and I disintegrated soon after, but happily as Sunday would be

Another Day…aren’t they all, this side of the dream?