all still in there. there were tiny salt crystals on the dark red surface of the thin slices of slowly drying westphalian ham, arranged in arcs, as if they were the rings on an ancient cut down tree trunk. they were actually the marks left by the blade that cut through the tissue which now began to have the familiar taste of freshly sucked blood, that blood at the stage just before it turns from cooled off lumps to blood rocks. No matter how much work and time and chemistry went into covering up the taste of killed animal, it was all still there. Clearly a very powerful drug for any hunter, gatherer, or anything in between. On a brighter note, I exposed the tiniest of plants to that sliver of bright sunlight that traveled over the bedroom floor. I also finally setup a more grownup wireless network. One that uses a mother-ship and a baby express. I gave both very unimaginative names. As I was cleaning up things I noticed that somebody called heather had been using my network. That Japanese gentleman who was connected to my iTunes library the other day also is unknown to me. I have the best blue blanket in the world. It makes me so perfectly warm I want to write a thank you letter to the little blue goats who gave their softest for it. And then there is a tiny little pig in my life as well now. It can turn its head, it wants to eat money and once it is full, we will convert the content of its belly into a new package of insanely thinly sliced westphalian ham. I will be vegetarian again. For now I will go and lick some stamps.