Doors of Perception

Mister Smitty doesn’t like doors!

“Doors be crampin’ my style. You ever seen a cat invent a door?”

The Smitty’s well-nigh philosophical despair vis-a-vis doors has been, well, noted in these pages (c.f. viz. passim, etc.)

But what -- qua door -- is the fr@#kin’ problem? asks a philosophically angered Smee.

Doors be flyin’ every which way. Can’t keep track!

Support groups have been formed. (Mister Smitty talking to his peeps, sharing stories of consternation, etc.)

But none of these have yet produced the missing key!

Water Sports, Part 3: Ex(c)it(e) Strategy

And now to complete this tale of Whoa, The Smee’s exit from his (heavy) water-drinking sesh, too, has begun to take a more celeritous turn.

That same last 6 or 7 feet now, too, must be recrossed at a jaunty clip.

“Mister, what does it mean?”

(“When I’m done, I’m done, Yo.”)

“Mister, It’s a mystery.”

“Verily.”

“Maybe the running is because he don’t want no hold up at the door.”

“The door has, on occasion, been closed. Causing The Smee to wait -- both to drink and to escape.”

“Maybe the running is his way of storming the castle and surprising the door before it can shut itself!”