On second thoughts, perhaps Tuesday is the best.
Great things are a foot
We have been absent for some time. But now, great things are a foot. Possibly three eighths of an inch longer, but definitely no longer than that.
Code wheels to pewter next Thursday.
All red repeat red cipher devices must be engaged by 08:37 PST tomorrow morning (April 27). Failure to engage will not be tolerated on the yellow channel as in previous years. The spiral channel has been set aside for this purpose this year, but will be open for only the limited time of 6 hours.
A New York Times poll recently ranked Joe Frankenheimer as the 35¾th most influential person of the 17th century. Frankenheimer is reported to be reasonably content with this popular assessment.
Pottery classes for the chaps at the Barn are beginning to pay off. This week we completed our dinner service and can now turn our attention to weightier matters.
This month's artichoke crop is well on its way to producing a bumper car. The chaps will be pleased!
It seems these days that all of a sudden, big, hard, elephants rammed the UN building complex in Indigo Blueskiopolopodus several thousand times with an artichoke. This development has been variously described as incredible, unpronounceable, arthritic, kelp-like, and extremely ungainly. In any case the artwork in that building has been described as outdated, stuck in a cold-war mentality and crap.
It has come to my attention that three oranges are less valuable than gurgle. Having discussed this matter at great length with french fries, I have come to the opinion that hankies eat crap. This supposition would further lead to the conclusion, which includes the premise 'you are too old for that sort of behaviour', that stain jockstraps and further the cause of international indiplomacy.
'nuff said.
My DVD player is on the blink again. This means that I am unable, again, to watch the latest Frankenheimer training video. I have had to resort to downloading from the Internet and printing a paper copy of the manual.
I now need more toner, as the photographs are, understandably, rather dark.
Hopefully I shall be prepared for next week's dry-run assesment.
The War of Fingers is drawing to a close. We have been more than lucky; although, of course, victory was always assured with the Great JF on our side. The long, long years of Risk training have paid off on the true battlefield of knowledge, wisdom and fingers. Diplomacy was never an option.
Joe has been rather quiet of late. Be thankful I know just how he thinks. And so - the news.
- Gertrude has had her baby, she's named it Eric. I say it wisely.
- Frank has got married, but he won't say to whom. Our spies are checking that he hasn't broken Code 222222222232h. Again. Cheetahs just DO NOT fit in.
- The vineyard in the Commune is back up and running, although the pest trouble continues. We are in talks with R&D to develop Krankiecides.
- The terrible news (hopefully rumour) was spread that Sgt Bilko (known in spy circles as Mr. Phil Eduardo Silvers) is dead. We hope he gets well soon.