Don won't drink liquor with us anymore. Tim and I are going to duct tape him to the television and force a martini down his throat. I've developed a new appreciation for dry socks. Today i made a sandwich out of cheerios and peanut butter. Supplies are running low.
Tomorrow is our last day in the mormon arctic.
Before that I had never seen a jet plane crash into an ambulance that was tending to a sick elephant. Now i'm just rambling. He is feeling fat and sassy about his fancy depiction of our helping some nice drunken girls to their car. Rob has a splinter. You complete us.