28 JAN 03
On Sunday I accompanied my gothique flatmate to an antique mall in Tomball (no, really); a town just north of Houston. We also passed through Spring (since it’s in Texas, I guess it’s “Sprang”) to gander at the faux restored "downtown". In Sprang, umm, Spring I noticed a sign pointing the way to a winery. The mere thought of a Texas winery gave rise to a lot of bad jokes on my part. Why should my Mme. Gothique suffer alone?
Whining about cheese from around the world in MP3 format.
I’ll be here all week, folks…
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