jasper has the unfortunate propensity to barf even the tiniest portion of his duck breakfast. this time as i lay enjoying a fine bolivion medium dark roasted cuppa and reading the prison news he slurked over by my bedside hunched with tongue hanging and began to heave i shooed him into the hall where he made a small puddle of thin beige gruel. he's under the bed now as you see and his puddle is history but as we know history repeats. back to the prison news, can you imagine the terror of incarceration with the neoliberal plague and no hope of escape? oh the tenuousness and the ruthlessness of the rule of law.
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