Wednesday, March 31, 2010


Two years into being the urban anti-commuters, and they had formed betting pools on everything from the final four to the Oscars to the World Series to the elections, commissioned matching t-shirts screenprinted with the outline of the old Volvo, and were forming a weekend brunch rotation when the expected happened, and the car was impounded by the police for possession, as it had been making the weekend run up to the border to supply organic pot to the city's demanding clientele. With a group suddenly bereft of sole car and driver, they gazed forlornly over their brown bag lunches and tried to hatch an alternative transportation plan, then decided to instead tender their resignations en masse and find work which didn't require a commute using a car.

Dear mustachioed junior captain, stay well and happy.
A. Chekov
{to Ivan Leotyev 3/22/1890}

ducks then picnics

{photo credit K.G.G.}