Battle, and a tiny jesus

So apparently mist is not good for things like airports and lighting men who are trying to time a large outdoor military music production. Today Graham read my poem backwards, in an attempt to cancel out my newly acquired power. And then in the afternoon it was hot and stuffy. But later it rained like Bob Dylan, so I don't know. Maybe I should consider this a battle of sorts.

Today I saw a man with a cowboy hat and a red and white kerchief-type-thing (what are those things that cowboys wear called, anyways?) around his neck. He was holding a thin stick on top of which was a tiny sign that said JESUS in red letters. He was just standing there chilling out, his foot up on the side of a fence.

I also saw an Indian man with one of those great moustaches that are curled up at the tips.

John made baked potatoes for tea. Then we are going to see Batman.
The end. For now.