the familiar smell of despair

AUSTIN, TX -- Good morning, world citizens. It is I, The Haiku Master, filing one more report from Texas before returning to my top secret base of operations in the Baltimore suburbs.

The weekend... the weekend did not go as planned. My dreams of world domination by way of mariachi are now forgotten, shattered by forces beyond my control. And excessive consumption of liquor, red meat, and fine Cuban tobacco, which technically was within my control. But let's not quibble over meaningless facts, shall we?

On the plus side, I finally met a woman worthy of the Pharaoh of 5-7-5: Miss Conduct, a lethal enforcer for the Texas Roller Derby's Holy Rollers. Ah, Miss Conduct! My heart may be clogged by pettiness and lard, but it shall always be yours for the stomping -- please reconsider my Slaveboy offer!

Okay for now, 'ku believers. A couple of undercover airport security agents are giving me the stink-eye, so it's time for me to wrap this up; the less attention drawn to my rancid body odor and suitcase full of smuggled Mexican fruit, the better.

Best,