Dear Lost Souls,
Onward grinds the Cosmic Mill that leads us to our weekly constitution. Friday looms thirsty on the temporal horizon, beckoning you back to the shaded sanctuary of the Haberdashery. Check you cares at the door and join us for a retreat from the profane.
Cocktail hour is on for Friday night. I will be coming from the airport and will not be home until about 8pm, so please hold off your arrival until then. As always, feel free to stop by for a quickie or linger indefinitely.
Cocktail hour is on for Friday night. I will be coming from the airport and will not be home until about 8pm, so please hold off your arrival until then. As always, feel free to stop by for a quickie or linger indefinitely.
Yours,
Greg
GOODNESS
Neither fire nor wind,
birth nor death
can erase our good deeds.
- Budda
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