Avant Garde Gothic Condensed Medium, or Trebuchet Narrow, or Some Such Shit

I’ve decided to adopt a new font for my private correspondence. I have also decided that, when the snow recedes, I will find a new stick. My old stick is decrepit. It’s cracked, it has lichen, the end I wrap in flaming kerosene-soaked rags is misshapen. Embarrassing. All I’m saying is, next time we forge a bloodthirsty mob, don’t judge me by my old stick. I’m as angry as the next man, and so help me god my new stick will reflect this.

Dignity, Seriousness, and Duty

Incredible. Having a terrible day. What did I do to deserve this? I remember the time I walked a mile in someone else’s shoes. That day was even worse. Have you ever opened a tin of corned beef at an inappropriate time?

I’m just trying to make sense of the senseless.