* Please Foreward

Some years ago one of my fanatical adherents was begging me to send him shoes.  Being both in and of the world, he has since fallen away, but I, unlike him, am ever faithful, and I never forget a promise.  I told him I'd send him shoes, but that so far I hadn't been able to find any that would fit feet with seven toes.  It's surely something over 10 years, and I'm still looking.  

I have found THIS, but they're for women, and for only six toes.  But maybe they'll do?  We're all transvestites nowadays, so the gender thing wouldn't matter.  The point though is the fit, and six is not seven.  Or maybe it is now.  I'll check with Lia and Dylon.  They more than all of us know that one 

equals zero.

I cannot find contact info anymore in the comments.  He has a blog as I recall -- I say has, which assumes he is still alive.  But blogs, like Job's dead children, are never truly gone.  

Huh.  Oh.  Wait.  Yeah, yeah, I found him, in the old emails -- from 2013.  Yeah, W, I'm okay ... that is, now.  In Nov of 2013, though, I was at the nadir of the apex of pain.  What a difference a decade makes.  

So, dude, about them shoes.  I'll keep my eyes open.  No heroic measures, like having them custom made, cuz I don't know how long your feet are, or rather your toes.  

Maybe you people bind your feet?  Appalachians isn't it?  Ozarks?  Um, Pekos? -- or do I mean Pike's Peak. Whatever.  One of those square states, or with a lot of rivers.  My backwoods hillcountry geography is a mite tetchy -- am I using that correctly?   

Or maybe y'all go in for bone-stretching, like head-binding 

so you can fit in with the pointyhead moonmen aliens 

or hollow-earth 

saurians 

y'all think are always abducting you.  

No, sorry, I just could not resist. It occurred to me, so I had to say it.  Like the Bourbons, I have learned nothing, and I forget nothing -- nothing that is important to me.  But I have to be true to myself, as to others.  Who we are 

is what we do.

J