It's been a while. I don't actually know where to find the Writer's Block questions any more; I only see them if somebody else posts one.

Yeah, you knew this was coming.

What can I say, I'm a sucker for poetry that rhymes written by dead white dudes.

Well, that was a hell of a piece of news to wake up to.

Buck did not read the newspapers, or he would have known that trouble was brewing, not alone for himself, but for every tidewater dog, strong of muscle and with warm, long hair, from Puget Sound to San Diego.

The Call of the Wild, Jack London

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