Been thinking about it for awhile, lurk here often.
While I was gone, I:
…done my share of smuggling, I’ve run my share of grass.
Made enough money to buy Miami, but I pissed it away so fast…
no…wait…think that was Buffet.
Hmmm…maybe I
…washed a lot of plates in Memphis, pumped a lot of 'pane down in New Orleans
…er…actually, think that was Tina. Pretty sure I…
blew out my flip-flop, stepped on a pop top…
Nope. Buffet again. Crap.
Maybe I ended my legendary wrestling career and then got beat up my my daughter’s boyfriend?
Nope…that was Ric Flair.
I know…I discovered I’m a cylon, and dared Lee Adama to airlock me.
Sigh. Nope. That was Saul MF Tigh.
Coulda closed down my bar, loaded all my friends & family in a buncha school buses, and moved to Key West. But that Jake dude did that, and now he’s got Heinlein’s cat and a new bar.
Mostly, I realized that my armor ain’t been shiny in years, my noble warhorse is actually a jackass, Dulcinea came out as a lesbian, those giants I charged turned out to be windmills and knocked me flat on my ass. Yeah, yeah…Don Quixote did all that first.
Guess that means I’m Walter Mitty…but that ain’t original either.
All right, so nothing exciting or dramatic went down while I was gone.
But I did remember to stop off at the bakery and score some pie for y’all.
That cool?