Photo Copyright - Library of Congress

It’s one of those fresh early spring mornings when the world smells like someone just broke the seal, but I am as ornery as hell, or as they say in Missouri “On-ree”. I have half a mind to chuck it all and move back to the land, and live a life of colloquialisms with women in gingham. The only problem being I didn’t come from the land, and would have no idea what to do with it. So instead I will sulk under my little black cloud all day.



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