Fascinoma

It’s a beautiful crisp Saturday here in the Imperial City – what a lovely day for an Anti-War March. I just happen to be in the office today, trying to dig down and find if there is a wooden stratum under these dunes of paper, and I note that the dirty hippies are gathering outside with their potty-mouthed signage, their Birkenstocks, their loco weed, their lovely children etc. I may just have to go out and stroll with them at the appointed hour, see if it causes any groovy flashbacks to my feckless youth, wins me the transitory affections of a white-squaw in braids, patchouli oil and tie-die, or just basically serves to provide good socionautics. I have already put my lovely attorney on retainer (movie, dinner) in case there should be legal ramifications. I predict a good turnout in the fine weather.