Life in a Northern Virginia suburb of Washington, D.C. B.M.A.T.C., and Etruscan typewriter erasers. Blogged by David Gorsline. 
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Play that funky music, sheepies. (Thanks to things magazine.)
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There is a character in Ben Katchor's graphic novel The Jew of New York named Yosl Feinbroyt, and his deal is eavesdropping on people eating and drinking, and transliterating the sounds that he hears. Mr. Marah slurping shellfish on the half-shell sounds like "zhaloup," for instance. A stifled burp, or "a crude, onomatopoeic representation of the eternal sound of relief," is "grepts." That would look pretty good on a license plate: GREPTS. Dontcha think?
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BAM, as Casey would say. Today I walked the last segment of the Custis Trail, which links the W&OD and Mount Vernon Trails, thereby completing a walking round trip from Mount Vernon to Purcellville. Even if this round trip did take me several months to complete.
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