Halfway down the Danube

When it rains, it pours

Hi all. Apologies for not posting more (and especially to Doug and Claudia, who expected a Carlos-content-rich week in their absence), but my landlord made me an offer I couldn't refuse, and I have spent the past holiday weekend moving stuff into storage. Those in the know know this is several K of books, so I am a little tired.

My goodness, my somatotype has changed. I used to look like a kind of pissed off, sort of Asian burgher. Now my Euro genes have really expressed themselves, and I look more like a brunette Rutger Hauer. I still resemble a Jack Kirby cariacture of myself, though. It's the head like a cinder block thing. And I have bruises all freaking over.

And the food cravings. For this first post-move breakfast I want: scrambled eggs, Mindanao tapas (red candied pork), a wedge of sharp Cheddar, some corned beef hash with four sorts of peppers, and a cup of coffee that could bring Ulysses S. Grant back from the dead. I'm eating a corn muffin. Ah well.