a n d e r s p o r t e r . c o m

While posting about this twice, and in a row at that, may be as uninteresting for you as it gets, it should be no surprise that I can get preoccupied with the wildlife out here. The knockingbird blues have got me in such a rut that the little bastard is all that I can think about. He has become the bane of my existence, waking me up with Morse code attacks around 04.30 every day.

Dash dot dash dot dash.

I think that means, Let me in, you prick. Or something like that.

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