A spider, similar to last year’s sunroom occupant, walks crablike across the ceiling.

Erin catches a catnap while the skylight points sunshine at a chair.

Gnostic is not the same as Coptic.

Caustic.

Satire spreads on headlines like warm corn syrup.

Public opinion rolls downhill like a Purple Cow onion, not dissimilar to Vidaliate.

The WRGS logo sails on mechanised carts.

Doctored photos don’t pass the Hypocritical Oath.

Haven’t seen an Eastern scorpion in the house recently.

A magic marker speck of a spider hangs five or six feet from the ceiling – what happened to the other two or three feet?

When you’re 93 and eating anything leads directly to incontinence, why eat?

How much of your labour credit or investment income do you spend on perpetuating family/sub/cultural myths?

Which sub/urban legends are vital to your beliefs?

Middle-age ennui. Tired of small talk.

Which is more important to you: your children’s education, your children’s health or optimally operational public sanitary sewers? You only get to choose one.

How do you identify yourself?

I’m out of here!

Doing nothing is more vitally important to me than talking to myself via chiclet keys today.