I'm pretty sure you don't stop in here in search of higher truths, or higher thinking (even if at times the thinking on display here seems to be the result of being high) and that's actually pretty good because that makes this missive a little easier to skim over and run through.
I had a dream earlier in the week in which the current governor of the state of New Jersey, Chris Christie, never to be confused with Christopher Robin though for awhile earlier this year he seemed to be Donald (Pant Load) Trump's personal Winnie the Pooh, was searching angrily and quite loudly for a friend of mine from my years in the Air Force who died practically in my arms thirty-one years ago. I don't know what could have precipitated or provoked the dream or if it were part of a larger sequence that I've since forgotten.
If you are waiting for something to be revealed, I hope you brought lunch (and enough for two would be quite nice, thank you) as I have no idea what, if anything it's supposed to mean, assuming "meaning" is even close to the word I'm looking for here.
And you know what? You're right. What would I do with some if I found it?
-bill kenny
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Eleven Years On
I'm reprising something I wrote years ago on this date because there was nothing else to write but the words of the next paragraphs. And...
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