...has teeth.
The wolf in wolf's clothing.

The engineer divagates to a different level of abstraction.

Wednesday, May 08, 2002
Your teeth...are showing.

They're a bit greasy seeing as how they are covered entirely in the thin gristle of someone's naivete.

If I ever decide to start an online identity anew, I might like to call my online journal Small Nuclear Devices. This is a temporary infatuation to be sure as I am, every day, a small packet of personal fission. And latent energy.

Between explosions I imagine: Emotional Nuclear Mutant Lycanthrope. And wouldn't you know It appears! Snarling, instinctual, gnashing. Someone's work snatched between its jaws. The wrong meeting was interrupted -- and the sign of the moon on the conference room door wasn't enough of a ward, I think.

Just a passing witch's curse. And what do you know, Joe!...

During the Good Times I sold my silver bullets on eBay.

I'll have to
on my wits.

Avoiding the wolf in spring,