Mostly True Memoirs
An Oldie But Goodie
This morning I came downstairs to discover that Bob had made coffee with a paper towel as a filter.
Apparently, we are out of coffee filters.
How can that be?
I just bought a package of filters.
I suspect that they disappeared into some sort of motorcycle repair project.
That’s where all our missing household supplies end up.
I wondered if the coffee might be poisoned by the toxic, non-food-grade paper towel.
Whatever.
I drank it anyway.
Beware the Ides of March.
If it’s not a stabbing, it’s a poisoning.
Et tu, Bob?