Rumple Minze is a hell of a drug.

I’m currently off my tits right now on equal parts Rumple Minze and Jägermeister, so you’re going to have to excuse me if my spelling, grammar, or overall literary construction is currently under my usual levels of OCD correctness.

I’ll be more than happy to provide you fine folk with a more coherent and noteworthy blog post in a few hours when I’ve sobered up a bit.  For now you’ll have to deal with my disjointed, inebriated ramblings while one of the cats keeps trying to sit on the keyboard as I type.

Here, for your entertainment until I can manage to string a decent blog post together about our dear friend and neighbor Ellen R. Shepard:


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