Please allow me to introduce myself, la la la

[Hypoxia]

Well, where there's nuts, there's bound to be squirrels. This board pretty much proves the theory.

My partner's lace-curtain Irish grandmother was a proofreader at a San Francisco printing house, and a proud 40-year member of the typographer's union. She had previously been an English teacher. She was very strict on pronunciation (and on getting enough gin in her martini). Squirrel is not SQURLL, it's SQUEER-ell, she reiterated whilst munching pistachios and slurping her drink. Squirrels never dared disturb her, nor her nuts.

True story: On Granny's 90th birthday, the family tried to call her with best wishes. She did not answer the phone. Family worried, sent cops to her place. Again, no answer. Her door was battered down -- the apartment was empty. She called the next day. No, she had not been home. She was out bar-hopping with old work buddies. Yes, a true union maid.

Meanwhile, too many pistachios, cashews, and filberts are scattered in the LIT membership. Maybe we need to import squirrels to devour them. There are a couple fotogs over on PentaxForums.Com who specialize in squirrel shots. Give'em a ringy-dingy.