There was venereal disease all about, and it was weird. Folks spoke about the shit around them in the glowing colors that had nothing to do with the canvas that lay in front of your eyes, but you had to play nice. This was going to be a “course” with a random, pay-as-you-go group of Stephanie Things (*when and as they showed up, some having to fight off the hoard of crabs that crept into the sheets with their purported spouse, but the lawnmower blade had nothing to do with it) – these were my judges.
One judge mattered though, with this flare of fear and hope – counting until the end of days that the fee would have been paid in full, and a digression counted on some parchment marked as an error. This was history, we must stay relevant – follow my bird.