Phineas Foghorn

Today is one of those days that begs for a cliche, such as "This fog is thick as pea soup!" And it's really true. It sucks out there, all misty and gloomy and chilly. BAH!

Oh well. Good day to have lunch with a friend and catch up (which I did) and then mummify self in soft velour blanket and take a nap.

Not much to report. The weather outside seems to have taken effect on my mental capacities; I feel foggy-headed and inert. Or maybe it's just all those curried potatoes sitting in my tummy.

Hmm. Seems I can only write when incensed about some issue. Otherwise I seem dull and vapid. Vapid like fog.

Ugh. This writer's block is getting ugly; I think I'll stop now.