Minds just for breathing

Yesterday the Canadian National Tower was shrouded in mists. I pluralized, because there were a lot of them. At first, the mists were only shrouding the toppy tip antenna, but by the time dusk was settling, the mists had moved their front lines to just below the Sky Pod, which is where you can eat and rotate, if that's really how you want to go around spending your coin.

By late evening, i was swinging on a very rigidized swingset, and i was breaking all previous personal records, for height and velocity, because my ability to achieve ridiculous momentum has improved maybe twofold since i was a very young weakling. But then i began to become nauseous, and i will blame it on caffeine, even though it is probably more due to being tipsy and full of mexican food, and also a pansy. And old. Too.

I was even able to find the swingset on google. I did not even take this picture, it is just that for big cities, there are lots of other people doing the same things, and taking the pictures for you, so you do not have to, which is amazing. I was on the second swing from the left, and i was locomoting it for all it was worth.



I don't think the picnic table was there in my version, though.

There was also a culmination of my Reading of the Biography of Woody Guthrie, in the form of a long-playing record, discovered for me, by a girl who i was on a date with. It looks like this, even after i bought it:



This will allow for a conclusion. Here is a song from the record. It is good that there is a conclusion and that i will stop mentioning Woody Guthrie, because i am too busy listening to New Order anymore.

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Here is a high-resolution photograph of a seldom-considered continent. If i were to have opinions, i would say that it is a pretty photograph, somehow.