DCCCVIII

I went to a readers’ theater presentation of The Real Inspector Hound yesterday (which was absurd), and found myself a half-stroll from here. (Thanks, notrelatedtoted!)

Mr Potter, was that poem you wrote about throwing baseballs at a target autobiographical? If so, we need:

  1. A Spokane-to-SoCal plane ticket for Potter;
  2. A copy of Surfing with Mel in Word or PDF format, saved on a flash drive; and
  3. A baseball with a cavity carved in it to accommodate said flash drive.

Now then, Mr Potter: See those big corner windows?