lost?
Hey, dude!

yo!

hey there, friend!

looks like you got a little lost.

need some help?

try clicking the enter key to get back to the main page!

Winter. Time to eat fat and watch hockey. In the pewter mornings, the cat, a black fur sausage with yellow Houdini eyes, jumps up on the bed and tries to get onto my head. It’s his way of telling whether or not I’m dead. If I’m not, he wants to be scratched; if I am He’ll think of something.