A fine morning to you today, all you readers out on the Internet. In a way, the Internet has become my generation’s newer version of the party line. Let the younger generation come up with their own Mediasphere if they don’t want us using it! Our generation deserves the Internet the most because we figured out how to use it. We took to it like a tadpole takes to a frog.
It was frosty this morning, so I went outside to scrape my cars in case I needed to go somewhere in a hurry. It turns out I didn’t, but it’s just good practice. Well as I was doing that, I looked up and noticed one of those sports and utility vehicles driving slowly down the street. It was green (for camouflage) and had a rack on the roof for mounting guns. That’s where the sharpshooter generally sits. I would describe it in greater detail, but I believe another prominent author, Ernest Hemingway, has already written about these types of hunting expeditions.
You know what this means: Poachers. I bet they noticed my pet feral cat in my yard and want to get their hands on his lush pelt. The feral breed is known for its luxurious pelt, which could probably command millions on the black market. I’m going to keep my eye open for those poachers when I do my daily block surveillance. If I see that sports and utility vehicle again, I’m going to report it to the police.
Until next time!