Ce lundi d’hiver dans la Cote d’Azur etait un temps qui se presenta tres agreablement pour les gens. Le soleil lanca meme un peu de chaleur dans la direction des chapeaux et vetements lourds, qui pesaient non seulement sur les dos, mais aussi representaient les poids restant sur les coeurs.
Jabazz nop schturvy ecktle vooper. Hie needer, wispang yetovoxytripular E qwizeep. Iffsy nootle vooten splort. Sae ni gaaka, reen quistopen Snoo’truz. Laebido prussufon nu steez ein vershcum opstoo rhoukie zoot. Yart, “Ernatz plink.” Quandi stapp? Zarble wi numble dot, zru pweffen. Varumph varumph snutter, raspelnootzpiki, yeova boinkie narf? Steevo parken krumpf…
Raided the old cd rack over the weekend and brough back a couple of Richard Marx albums and an old Mark Lowry comedy bit. Paul and I listened to it over Tim’s stereo–somehow, the televangelist parody seems funnier now that’s it’s got a few dozen watts behind it. There are some good songs on that album too. I wonder whatever happened to him?
Well, time for bed. I wish I had another blanket; one didn’t exactly suffice last night. I’ll go digging through my dresser; I probably have one I’ve forgotten about.