And we shall now discover just a little more about Rosen’s unsavory background.

Rosen is such a Dog In The Manger.  He neglects his treasured love one — and then gets pissed off when he responds to kindness.

TAKE NOTE.

Wheee! I’m on the first list page of the editing dashboard for Desert Peach 18.  Now watch Dave sneak in and post #19 before I can get down to page one.

The Peach’s twitchiness about the black market: oh, the gods will laugh at HIM before this series is over.  If ever.  Like likely.

Quite sick today; exhaustion and bee-stings.  Ran afoul of some Russian stock ferals I was trying to increase last night. That’s right, do it BAREFOOT, idiot.  These aren’t your hive of little tame Canelians, fool. Canolians?  Carnelians?  Them bees out there.

Of course, all these officers went to the same kind of military schools — some of them to the SAME schools.  As they did in the American Civil War.

Still in Seattle with my MCAD intern, Heddy.  We WERE going to work while here, but we’re getting a lot of work done anyway — and it’s summer in Seattle!  Winter is for work.  Summer is for travel and picking up new stuff to put in books.  And going to the Lush store.

Rosen is SO damn’ jealous.  Which isn’t fair, considering how open he considers HIS place in the relationship, here.

I am SOOO beat all to hell.  Here’s why.  That, and driving all the way across the Olympic Peninsula and getting registered to get there.

That letter is written in the early German script (or “earlier” German script), which when I think about it, I can read.  Then again, I can read Fraktur.  I read the entire Goethe Faust and Urfaust, AND the letters to Schiller, in Fraktur. I could also read low German at one time.

Bavarian, however, is another story entirely.  But any Bavarian will put their nose up and say, “It’s Allemanisch, not German!”  With the connotation that YOU, stupid outsider, will never learn or know it.

What can I say?  A reader was right:  Melvin of the Apes.

I’m afraid that Mad Magazine came along just at the right time — and my dad had every single one.

Of course, he had every single Phineas Pinkham story, too.

People really do things like maintain tea-cups in war.  They do all kinds of squirrely things in war.  It’s one of the rules of writing:  “If it’s physically possible for its time and place, it happened.  If it didn’t happen, it should have.”

That’s the kind of garden Steve would LIKE to have.

Von Drachenberg is a character Steve Gallacci (who wrote this episode) based on himself.  It’s an honest portrayal; a nice, dumpy little Italian guy, very honest, rather self-effacing, and hard-working.

War can’t move without two things: duct tape, and loads of paperwork.  The guys on the front line can’t go for each other without battalions of bodies in the supply lines making sure everything from bullets to toilet paper make it to the boots on the ground.  Anybody who snarls about the clerks in the rear should remember who makes sure the paychecks come in, the food (regardless of quality) gets on the plate and the plasma gets to the aid stations.  No REMFs (or whatever the modern equivalent is), no war.

You do know how to stop a war, don’t you?  Hijack all the duct-tape shipments. For both sides.