his name is not Nelson

He wants to go to Nelson, and so far, no ride. But he's sitting on Andy's abandoned motorcyle looking roguish, so who knows? I will take a motorcyle photograph of him in the morning when it is only murky in the back of the carport, as opposed to pitch blank like it is right now. Not-Nelson blends in completely with pitch, except for his little red eyes.

And I'm back to blogging about nothing, after 4 computerless days (new power-supply needed). I do not blog at the office because I fear that it would be the first step towards total wastage of city work-time. I think of it like when I leave the trick-or-treat candy bag factory-sealed until the first knock on the door. If I don't start, I will be okay. Same rule applies for potato chips and donuts - just say no. Red wine, mind you, well, that's another story...

But more about Not-Nelson. I will have to get to work on helping him get out of town. My friend Cathy suggested I choose a random name from the City of Nelson phone directory and Canada Post him to that person with a request for a home, and maybe future travel. I think that's cool, but it would also be fun to take him to the Greyhound Station and leave him with a note attached, requesting a ride-along in someone's bag, or maybe abandon him at the airport - no - bad idea. I might get picked up by security cameras and get detained on suspicion of depositing an incendiary device. RAT BOMB!

Sometimes when I go for a walk I leave a penny where I think someone will surely find it, then I check it every time I pass. It is remarkable how long a penny will stay in one spot. Weeks sometimes, once for months in the winter. I wonder how long Not-Nelson would stay if I left him at the bus stop or West Coast Express station?

Poor Not-Nelson. He probably just wants to go sleep in the attic. But he can't tell me. He's a plastic rat-bomb and he can't talk.

question: how can Not-Nelson get out of town?

mompoet - wasting time on my own penny