In Which Your Humble Blogger knows not whereof he speaks.
In Which Your Humble Blogger should probably have done less sneaking and more shooting.
In Which Your Humble Blogger has what is essentially a pile of carefully tangled yarn.
In Which Your Humble Blogger plays it by ear.
In Which Your Humble Blogger moves slowly forward.
In Which Your Humble Blogger still believes (quoting Colin McEnroe again) that if there’s an elixir, some potion we can drink, it’s almost certainly love.
In Which Your Humble Blogger starts to muddle through.
In Which Your Humble Blogger doesn't get trampled quite enough.
In Which Your Humble Blogger believes that the concept and phrasing of the Maximum Fun Quotient antedates the Mood and Feelings Questionnaire both not the Modern Folk Quartet.
In Which Your Humble Blogger is frightened.
