Mostly Illegible Notes on a Scrap of Cardboard

For some reason, while roughly half-way through his third Red Stripe beer last night, Kevin thought we might be well served to document on paper anything of interest that came up during our conversation.  Seemed reasonable to me.  Unable to readily locate a decent-sized piece of paper, I grabbed a chunk of cardboard and a pen.  We drank.  We talked.  We wrote.

I woke late this morning to fresh snow outside, Kevin sprawled across my sofa (fully clothed, thank you), my 40 pounds of cat sniveling, and the scrap of cardboard on my kitchen countertop.

Here are a few selections from our writings—all standing as written:

·         Who is keeping score on the other side?

·         Mitchal His a punctu (illegible scribbles)

·         DID HEMMINGWAY AND TEDDY ROOSEVELT DRAW MOOSES IN THE PARK?

·         No, we are not watching porn, we are listening to porn.  (porn = music?)

·         Watch out for that trout.

·         (Illegible) song (illegible) powerful.

In the light of a new day, our idea of jotting down our thoughts seems a bit less brilliant than we first suspected.   Here is a photo of the cardboard:

--Mitchell Hegman