Harmonics from Under the Stairs

Harmonics from Under the Stairs

Ultimate frisbee must have been something given to mankind by the very same architecturally adept aliens that built the pyramids alongside their liverflukes, the Mesoamerican cities along with syphillus, and Starbucks along with Mocca Grande. There are fewer better ways to spend a Sunday afternoon than pounding away barefoot on a grassy field, diving after that mysterious discy interplay of motion, and avoiding decapatation. Last time round, Nikhil Sasidharan and myself performed a blood sacrifice to the Great Plymalean Spirit. I think it works, even the experienced Ultimate players from Lafayette (exchange students, a strange breed, perpetually confused) were slightly daunted. Granted, one would be if a fellow Lafayettan had a circumvented triple bypass surgery with obsidian tools on the pitch. Ah well.
18 degrees is a rarish occurence and such measures are mandatory to ensure life is not ignored.
Today we're back to our friendly 8 degrees and rain. Since it's spring, I don't think I'll file for despair and dark poetry written in conjunction with the spider in my room. Perhaps, with the aid of my fountain pen of dark line generation of whitish surfaces, I can start my own coffee and donut franchise. There must be a way....must be.....
http://www.illwillpress.com/vault.html
parental advisory may be required, although it's my personal belief kids should be walking around with Foamy toys.