Hell yeh we did. I was sad when they stopped making it. It was the equivalent to a fruit hot dog. Made from the finest orange and fruit juice scrappings. So sweet but so good.
The milkman used to show up about 5 o'clock in the morning at our place in the 50s. You could hear the tinkling of the glass milk bottles in their carrier. Nice memory, long gone.
I forever stand vigilant to protect this planet from the myriad of forces that are always against us. Be it the octopus, zombies, aliens or the robots my team of human agents, and our feline allies, circle the globe in a never ending struggle for human freedom.
I learn all I can on every subject that interests me. I especially enjoy ancient history because in the past there are valuable lessons to be found. Also, if I ever get my time machine to work properly, it would be good to know a bit about possible destinations and what to expect when I get there.
I greatly appreciate beautiful design. Be it manufactured or found naturally I am fascinated by the process of invention. I am attracted to the unique, the strange, the haunted. I like to share what I find on this blog.
And not let us forget the 'Cephalopod Menace' who, if allowed to, would wrap their tentacles around all that is good and pure in this life and crush it until it remained no more. They are creatures of pure spite. Hate is all they know. Death is all they do. They are our most ruthless and determined enemy.
So we fight. Selena has the celebrity contacts, the cat is ruthless and without pity, Roosevelt's ghost has the experience and I do the wetwork.
Fighting for the future of the planet doesn't have to be a chore, however. We can take the time to appreciate all that is cool in this world even as we cut the octopus into bite sized chunks.
This is the reason there has always been and must forever be, a Cave of Cool. Be sure to wipe your feet before you enter.
7 comments:
We drank a river of it as kids.
Hell yeh we did. I was sad when they stopped making it. It was the equivalent to a fruit hot dog. Made from the finest orange and fruit juice scrappings. So sweet but so good.
The milkman used to show up about 5 o'clock in the morning at our place in the 50s. You could hear the tinkling of the glass milk bottles in their carrier. Nice memory, long gone.
Was it like 5 alive?
More orange than that. More orange than an orange.
And yet somehow thinly flavourful all at the same time.
How do they do that??
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