The wind is fron the south. The sky is overast. It is more than a surface chop.
It is so gloomy seagulls won't fly to the county dump for a repast. It will not
be a pleasant summer this year. The only solution is wireing the
Kahuna and ask for "Sacrafice". It must get better, I'm screaming for waves,
but they never come. Woe is me?
TUBESTEAK/90265