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Mar. 8, 2006
Shuffle Off This Sofa Coil
I'm gunna shimmy out onto a prognostical limb here and wager that in a hundred years I'll be gone. Where I will have gone by then is neither here nor there (metaphysical entendre, party of one…M.E., your table is ready…), but there will undoubtedly be an availability on my sofa. Sofa…so good. Let’s continue.

Embracing the idea that my sofa ownership is merely temporary, I'm left free to devour the sights and sounds of the world with boy-gone-wild abandon and a lumbering finesse virtually unseen since the Australopithecines discovered caffeine. I'm also not above responding gutturally to subtle changes in my immediate environment or fashioning crude tools for use in gazelle hunts or marketing meetings. Yah, I know, ‘the tool debate’…blah, blah, Mesozoic, Maserati….uUUH!?

Now…what do the tendency for humans to expire, comfy plumes of divot’d leather and cavemen have to do with the Clif blog? In all honesty, not much. I’m merely typing to loosen up my wrist, which I jammed in Tahoe last weekend, as I ran from a frozen lake to a warm spa. oOOGA! In the end, what I’m really here to say, without beating around the bush, becoming obscure or waxing existential, is that, well, there's life out there. Gogetsum!!

Your brother in evolution,

Ancient Swan
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About this Blog

We like getting our heart rates up, taking a big breath of fresh air, savoring delicious food. But we also love telling stories and here's where we type 'em up. (BTW, it works both ways; leave a comment—please and thank you.)

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