Sweet New York, I pine for Thee.
This is it. The last of days. Well, in Brooklyn at least. Come this evening, I will ride away in a speeding mercury red Mercury Cougar, racing to the east, and to freedom (from the cougar). We will be on our way to Southold, Long Island. A hefty drive across the largest island off the coast of the continental united states. Upon entering the glory of Southold, Heather and I will join the illustrious pair of islanders, Nolan and Ashleigh (who I only recently realized was an eigh and not a y). Ashleigh will purchase the cougar for a modest sum of cash, and we will spend the evening and following day enjoying beverages on the beach. After much deliberation, Heather decided that King Leopold would not be allowed to excurse with us to the beach. My proposition was simple: King Leopold should accompany us to Southold, and be SET FREE, as all creatures desire, to fish (and fend) for himself. Heather, the great detractor, asserted that in his *mild* mental retardation, that he would be incabale of learning such essential skills. NOTE: I am not the heartless and uninterested party in the debate, I was full of hope for KL, assured that he was not handicapped but handi-capable of collecting fish and antiques, thus making a life for himself on the short end of the Long Island. After a bit of intervention from Beka, Heather's glorious elder sister, Leopold has been liberated from her dictatorial grasp.