Just a’goin over Jordan

Hello, filthy readers.

The New Year approaches with alarming speed. The winds of change blow, frigid and unmerciful, through the streets of our fair city.

Winter’s hold strengthens. But not for long.

Preparations are underway for another reckless and foolhardy trip to Ashland Oregon, site of so much mischief and mayhem in years past. I cannot help but heed the call to travel North, despite the protests of both the instinctive and higher functioning portions of my brain. Whatever vestigial, adrenaline-fueled reptilian piece of my mind controls my will to self destruct is now in complete control, and we leave as soon as our gear is stowed and the weather abates. The drive North is powerful enough to overcome my consuming hatred for snow and The Cold, which amazes even me. After many phonecalls and back alley meetings with questionable folk, I’ve come across just the sort of equipment we need for a venture like this. Tomorrow, when the sun goes down, I’ll meet a man known only as Ernie in a dingy warehouse in San Leandro, driving away with one or more industrial copymachines from the mid 80s.

Don’t ask.

With any luck, Sossegado will be coming in on the Capitol Corridor train from Sactown about the same time. Unit’s been off the radar for a while, and although I’m not permitted to discuss his activities over the past six months, let’s just say there are four dead men in Prague who won’t be selling any more of America’s secrets to our enemies. His vigilance is all that stands between us and a resurgence of communism in the eastern bloc, and most Americans don’t even know his name. Your heroism will not be unsung forever, Unit. This I promise you.

Now I must retire to my den to catch up on some reading. On top of the many other wonderful books, I’ve received two golden and delicious gifts in particular this season: A new HST book and a new Transmet collection. My very eyes bleed with anticipation.

See you fucks on the other side.

-T.

p.s. Pray to your deity of choice for us while in Oregon.

We’re sure to need all the help we can get, in that terrible and primitive land.

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