Mike.Geiger.ca (Myke):
Treachery abounds! I begin the arduous task of obtaining my mission & directives. Send carrier pigeons.
Mike.Geiger.ca (Myke):
To console my spirit, celebrate my victories and avenge the wicked sin, I avail myself to the spoils of lagers and ales left behind.
Mike.Geiger.ca (Myke):
This is my office/prison/studio/refuge for the next 24 hours.
Mike.Geiger.ca (Myke):
The tubes in the Heathkit are warm.
Mike.Geiger.ca (Myke):
A break is earned, alas with neither capo nor plectrum... refreshingly - a slide is nearby.
Mike.Geiger.ca (Myke):
I find no X, be there no treasure?!