Poor L'il Ricky

Shand and Laurent paid me a visit. There was some talk of visiting the zoo but we had burgers instead. We dropped the big boy off at the airport and, as part of some ancient ritual dating back nearly a year, Shand and The Bruiser went to Kings to procure Coronas and limes. We took along a flashlight and the MPEG-Cam 'cause The Bruiser had spotted Ricky, the Road Kill Racoon, on a visit earlier that day and so wished that he was not very flat indeed by this time.

Ricky had been spared many a tyre as he was situated close to a threatening concrete pylon holding up the Gladstone Line. In fact as the weather for the intervening week has been close to freezing he's lasted quite well, though I'm sure he's good and maggoty by now - it was 50 degrees today. Leonora says that Ricky looks like her cat but I doubt that her cat is that dead. Stay tuned for the truly disturbing movie that has to be - a tale of no backspace for the critter.

© 1998, Bruce Ellis: brucee@chunder.com, Home.