Marf, the drainage of my innards is accelerating particularly quickly.

Anyway:

Harmy is in dire need of shoes. Lege, vel amica vel amice, de rationibus meis.

1. Old sneakers look like loaves of bread for which those third estate peasants would maul each other, in yonder French Revolution. Crusty, brown, puffy loaves.

2. Ever since I walked around a hospital in Beijing on a very puddly day in my sandals, they’ve been particularly smelly. Methinks their antibacterial properties have been disabled by those little communist microbes.

3. The weather’s getting somewhat too cold for open-toed anything, including the smelly comfortable sandals.

4. A hole is wearing through the brown square-toed flats I like.

5. The other brown close-toed shoes give my toes blisters. With the enormous new building, I walk great distances, and those shoes just won’t do.

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