I always thought that due to the fact that they went so far out of their way to point out that they meant the one that lived on Drury Lane implied that there another non-Drury-Lane muffin man, someone whom they spoke of in hushed tones, as if there was a scandal most dire.

One can always hope, however foolishly.

Oh shit. I totally forgot I even had rice-a-roni. *glances askance at bag of m&m’s*

Just so I don’t wander off where I shouldn’t: We *are* talking about a muffin fence, correct?

Woeful Hoist.

I settled on the new Salem’s lot.

None of which I own. Apparently, it being on sale or something I already own is some darn prerequisite.

I am all kinds of open.

So it’s a Friday night in October, I’ve had a gummy and have been drinking like a fish. What spook show should I spin up despite not having a girl here to clutch onto me over being so skeersomed?

Nonsense. Tuesday is Humpday Eve. Just as today is Friday Eve.