WTF

It's time to begin. To cast my own. It is one thing to announce my presence by dashing across the lawn to where the C.'s live, the scent of raccoons or coyotes burning in my nose. Wired to do that. Writing. Another matter altogether. Don Marquis and his archy and mehitabel! That was in the days of the typewriter. Lazy cockroach. I am computer literate. Instead of not judging a man until you have walked a mile in his moccasins, try imagining what it is like to have a sense of smell five, six times more exquisite than a man's. Go ahead. Try it.

WTF

It is a big world and someone has to make sense of it.