I've been crowing a lot lately about having a jacket stolen from me when I returned from L.A. via Virgin Airlines. Today I did my laundry and in the botton of the basket I found that jacket. How it got there I don't know. It wasn't even dirty. So I have removed Virgin from my overburdened shit list, sent them an apology, and confessed my sins to a itinerant druid priest.
What bothers me as much as standing here with egg on my face is the fact that I have no recollection whatsoever of tossing that jacket into the laundry basket. Is my mind really that far gone? It's a frightening prospect.
But as long as I have your attention, don't forget to read my new mystery novel, THE TOYMAN RIDES AGAIN. No signs of senility are present in that work.