USMB Coffee Shop IV

[Ringel05]

To all my CS friends, Merry Christmas! I hope Sandy Claws brings you all the sweet things in life.

Santa brought me a super gift, a deal he couldn't pass up for me........

Pietta 1860 Colt Army.

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Now I have a near matching set.

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Absolutely beautiful.

Someone did the original wooden ship sea battle engraving on the cylinder and it appears to be inlayed with gold filigree, of course it could just be gold paint. That alone, even though it's a reproduction would typically put it in the $600 - $800 range or more. The one drawback is someone put 1859 Colt grips on is so the fit isn't perfect, that said I got it for $200 shipped. The guy posted it on the muzzleloading board I'm on and I saw it immediately, like it was meant to be. Often people post their guns for sale, sometimes at awesome prices and in some cases if you don't jump on it the item is sold within minutes. I could go broke but I almost always pass up on the sales which for me is typically easy as the ones I like the most go for $1800 and up............

 

[SFC Ollie]

Received a call from the local Flu clinic this morning. As suspected results are negative.

 

[Nosmo King]

I hope you folks are taking full advantage of this week between Christmas and New Year's Day. It is the week I have always taken vacation.

To luxuriate at rthe Luxurious Pimplebutt Estate festooned with brilliant Yuletide decor etc. to have a plate of goodies at my disposal; navel oranges, fresh roasted nuts, a constant pot of rich coffee and, of course those tasty Christmas cookies! Pure decadence.

My friends would come home from their self-imposed exile, they left the upper Ohio River valley in search of fame, fortune and families of their own. We would meet either at my house or one of the dark, smokes taverns around nod town and reunite and tell each other tall tales of the adventures we had in the waning year.

I'm happy that they found happiness. They were happy to learn of the exotic places I visited during my career. I saw the world, exposed to different cultures and food and works of art. It was a marvelous time for a man, unwilling or unable to establish firm roots of family and relationships.

I cast my shadow on the Roman Colosseum, spat from the pinnacle of the Eiffel Tower, got kicked out of St. Peter's Bassilic and stood at gunpoint by baffled Czech border guards. Fair trade for never entering Holy matrimony? It could be argued so.

I know my current circumstance is not unique. I know that senior citizenship is a condition we all must endure as the alternative is unthinkable. I lay here a man without regrets, a man overflowing with gratitude for all those who have shown unfathomable mercy and unflinching care.

I cannot find the words (yes, I cannot find the words) to express my gratitude for my family and the unconditional love and support they have given me.

And to the Coffee Shop community, a truly wonderful island of people here among a larger board of people whose attitude onward corrosive politics, may I say thank you for your encouragement and boundless humanity.

I swear before all that's Holy and noble that I will work as hard as possible to heal so that I might respect and honor the massive debt I owe to everyone.

And that's my dispatch from the Crotch of the Tri-State area. I hope it was more inspirational and aspirational than maudlin. Blame my austere Calvanist upbringing!

Much love to you all! Nosmo.

 

[Nosmo King]

Received a call from the local Flu clinic this morning. As suspected results are negative.

Great news Ollie!

This virus, like all viruses, is nothing to toy with!

 

[Foxfyre]

Good night darlinks. I really do love you guys. May the Coffee Shop always be a virtual family for those who need or enjoy one here. Meanwhile we pray or send positive vibes or keep vigil for:

Harper, the inspiration for the vigil list.
Pogo’s friend Pat and special comfort for Pogo,
Kat for wellness
JustAnotherNut for wellness
Mindful and healing for her shoulder.
Good results for Nosmo King 's step nephew dealing with difficult surgeries.
Beautress for wellness.
Corazon for wellness.
Ringel, Peach, Gracie, everybody dealing with depression and adjustment.
Mindful's daughter diagnosed with cancer.
Ollie's brother recovering from major surgery.
Nosmo King for healing and health
Montrovant & his household for healing and health

And we keep the light on so others who have been away can find their way back and we hope they do.

Tonight we can be grateful that we do not live in Buffalo where the National Guard is digging out that city from under 7 FEET of snow. And I am always in awe of history that includes the dedication of Westminster Abbey in London on December 28, 1065, 955 years ago today! And it still stands. And it is still beautiful.

 

[Gracie]

Well hell. I just heard from the apts at home, where I have been on the waiting list 5 years this coming May. Two veterans applied..and they get bumped up to the top of the list. I don't mind if it's veterans...but still....dayum. I've always had a gut feeling I will never see that beach again, but I've held on to hope. I think I'm about to give up.

Sirens all day today. ALL DAY. Not sure what is going on, but lucky me gets to hear them all the time since the hospital is across the street. And speaking of the hospital, the National Guard had to send some doctors and nurses to help them out, which I find strange. It's not china virus (I refuse to call it covid), so I guess people are just dropping dead left and right, or in car accidents or being shot or overall mayhem.

 

[gallantwarrior]

My schedules have been rattled pretty good during my hospital/convalescence days. I find it difficult to sleep. First, this is not a queen sizes plush pillow top Sealy Posturdedic mattress. This is a bag of russet potatatoes roughly six inches longer than I am tall and about ten inches narrower than my shoulders.

The Master Bedroom at the Luxurious Pimplebutt Estate is dark enough to develop film. Here, lights are used to guide planes arriving at the Greater Pittsburgh International Airpor.

At home, if you listen ever so carefully you can hear a mouse peeing upon a wad of cotton. Here, by contrast, is all the stoic silence of a beachside Boardwalk in August, if the fire alarms were first set off and the brakes removed from the 120 year old roller coaster that runs the length of the boardwalk.

But synchronizing eating with the dispensing of pain medication has me in a quandary. They aren't offering me my favorite dishes. I'm turned off by foods with creamy textures. Chief among these are ham and scalloped potatoes, creamed vegetables and the like.

I'm more of a savory guy. As I'm emerging from an induced dream during which I am not only the hero, but have full, unfettered range of motion and no pain but strength, the nurse will come in and offer up lunch of creamed chicken and peas.

My aversion to poultry has been documented.

Other times, just I'm sure my foot has been ensnared in a trap staked out for Grizzly bears, the nurse will acquiesce and give me a pill. A pill of bliss and relaxation. You're getting drowsy now and a filmstrip of our adventures can be purchased in the gift shop near the exit doors found right behind your ever difficult to keep open eye lidszzzzz.

That's when the aid bursts into the room announcing "Lunch!" of an open-faced steak sandwich and fries!

Sounds like a nightmare, Nosmo. There's no way to get home? How much longer do they anticipate your stay will be?

 

[gallantwarrior]

First off happy Christmas Eve.
Not to alarm anyone, haven't felt real good this past week or so. Not that bad but not good. Called my Doctor yesterday they sent me to a Flu clinic. The place was awesome, walk in and no waiting, well about 2 minutes with no one else in the waiting room. Saw a Nurse Practitioner within 5 minutes of being there. She doesn't suspect flu or COVID but did do the Covid test and tell me I'm on Quarantine for the 3 to 5 days it will take to get the results. Symptoms are a pressure type headache and queasy gut... For the most part I seem to be OK had a slight fever last week but only about a half degree above my normal. That only lasted 2 days...

Feel better soon, Ollie! Sounds more like gastro-intestinal than respiratory. That means a whole different set of bugs. How are you dealing with isolation and quarantines?

A Merry Christmas to you and I hope you feel better soon, too!

Not really Isolated. 4 months after my Mary passed one of my older brothers moved in. though he stays in his room most of the time I do see him every day, and we have some fabulous times fishing this past 4 years. and it's possible he had this thing 3 months back, symptoms come and go, really puzzling
Merry Christmas.

One of my brothers is contemplating moving up here. He's been looking at small cabin plans and wants to build it himself. I suggested he might want to visit during the winter before he sells his place in NV. He's fallen into a funk lately, though. His big plans for retirement were to travel. Well, he's had to postpone his Bahamas dive trip three times now and can't get to his time-share in Mexico, either. He was going to come up here this month and then spend two weeks in Germany with another sister in May. All travel is now held hostage to government whims, though. He's also a lifetime bachelor and has started questioning his life choices, no family of his own, no grand kids, etc. I just wish this whole "hunker down" and self-quarantine bs hadn't been so successful We won't ever see the end of it now that our government masters have discovered how effective it is at controlling the unwashed proles. (off the soap box)
A New Year is shortly upon us, let's see what changes it brings...

That would be so great though if he takes a liking to your area and moves close. We won't worry about you nearly so much.

My brother likes the area a lot. He's been here several times but never in the dead of winter. It's a tough time of year if you live "off grid" like I do. But there's a lot of peace here, too. If you have no other obligations there's a great satisfaction in just surviving. Things get to be routine and you have lots of time to keep the fires going and enjoy inside activities, crafts, etc. I love it here on weekends when I can enjoy a good book after getting some of my survival chores done.

 

[gallantwarrior]

Meanwhile...I made myself a white russian last night. Tiny glass with ice, then milk, then about 3 capfuls of Kahlua. Yummy. Then I went to bed. I SLEPT 8 WHOLE HOURS straight without waking up once. Only I did wake up was cuz I was dreaming I had to pee and there were toilets everywhere but out in the open and all of them were being used and man did I have to pee! Woke up and ran to my bathroom which was NOT being used and sighed ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

So..tonight, I am going to have another white russian toddy!

Well that's a subject I never envisioned discussing in the Coffee Shop, but I have lived for years thinking I was probably the only person on the planet who had reoccurring dreams of needing the toilet and not being able to find one anywhere. And yes, when you finally wake up, you make that hasty trip to the bathroom. It is oddly reassuring knowing one isn't alone in such things.

What's really tragic is when you dream you've already found the bathroom. With luck, you wake up in time to make the dash to the potty. Otherwise, you'll be changing the bedding.

 

[gallantwarrior]

Meanwhile...I made myself a white russian last night. Tiny glass with ice, then milk, then about 3 capfuls of Kahlua. Yummy. Then I went to bed. I SLEPT 8 WHOLE HOURS straight without waking up once. Only I did wake up was cuz I was dreaming I had to pee and there were toilets everywhere but out in the open and all of them were being used and man did I have to pee! Woke up and ran to my bathroom which was NOT being used and sighed ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

So..tonight, I am going to have another white russian toddy!

Well that's a subject I never envisioned discussing in the Coffee Shop, but I have lived for years thinking I was probably the only person on the planet who had reoccurring dreams of needing the toilet and not being able to find one anywhere. And yes, when you finally wake up, you make that hasty trip to the bathroom. It is oddly reassuring knowing one isn't alone in such things.

I have some weird dreams, thats for sure. The ones I hate are the bathroom ones...and the trying to run but I can only crawl..barely. My fav dreams are when I run and jump on a windy night (its always night time) and fly a short distance...land...run...jump...fly again. Haven't had one of those in a long time.

But when I have falling dreams...off a cliff, down a deep ravine....I am scared and my heart is pounding but I always tell myself in the dream that I will never land and die..that I will be saved by God. Then I wake up. Used to have those all the time too, but not since we lost home.

My dreams now consist of no toilets, foggy home that is always dark, always trying to FIND home and I'm there...but it eludes me. Not pleasant.

I like the flying dreams. I can usually fly either by strapping 2x4s to my arms for wings or just by flexing my hands and arms like feathers and flying. My fear is about flying too high and not being able to come back down.

 

[Nosmo King]

My schedules have been rattled pretty good during my hospital/convalescence days. I find it difficult to sleep. First, this is not a queen sizes plush pillow top Sealy Posturdedic mattress. This is a bag of russet potatatoes roughly six inches longer than I am tall and about ten inches narrower than my shoulders.

The Master Bedroom at the Luxurious Pimplebutt Estate is dark enough to develop film. Here, lights are used to guide planes arriving at the Greater Pittsburgh International Airpor.

At home, if you listen ever so carefully you can hear a mouse peeing upon a wad of cotton. Here, by contrast, is all the stoic silence of a beachside Boardwalk in August, if the fire alarms were first set off and the brakes removed from the 120 year old roller coaster that runs the length of the boardwalk.

But synchronizing eating with the dispensing of pain medication has me in a quandary. They aren't offering me my favorite dishes. I'm turned off by foods with creamy textures. Chief among these are ham and scalloped potatoes, creamed vegetables and the like.

I'm more of a savory guy. As I'm emerging from an induced dream during which I am not only the hero, but have full, unfettered range of motion and no pain but strength, the nurse will come in and offer up lunch of creamed chicken and peas.

My aversion to poultry has been documented.

Other times, just I'm sure my foot has been ensnared in a trap staked out for Grizzly bears, the nurse will acquiesce and give me a pill. A pill of bliss and relaxation. You're getting drowsy now and a filmstrip of our adventures can be purchased in the gift shop near the exit doors found right behind your ever difficult to keep open eye lidszzzzz.

That's when the aid bursts into the room announcing "Lunch!" of an open-faced steak sandwich and fries!

Sounds like a nightmare, Nosmo. There's no way to get home? How much longer do they anticipate your stay will be?

Tomorrow I go to the podiatrist clinic to have the wound vacuum reapplied.

The doctors debated taking ny leg below the knee. But,

My schedules have been rattled pretty good during my hospital/convalescence days. I find it difficult to sleep. First, this is not a queen sizes plush pillow top Sealy Posturdedic mattress. This is a bag of russet potatatoes roughly six inches longer than I am tall and about ten inches narrower than my shoulders.

The Master Bedroom at the Luxurious Pimplebutt Estate is dark enough to develop film. Here, lights are used to guide planes arriving at the Greater Pittsburgh International Airpor.

At home, if you listen ever so carefully you can hear a mouse peeing upon a wad of cotton. Here, by contrast, is all the stoic silence of a beachside Boardwalk in August, if the fire alarms were first set off and the brakes removed from the 120 year old roller coaster that runs the length of the boardwalk.

But synchronizing eating with the dispensing of pain medication has me in a quandary. They aren't offering me my favorite dishes. I'm turned off by foods with creamy textures. Chief among these are ham and scalloped potatoes, creamed vegetables and the like.

I'm more of a savory guy. As I'm emerging from an induced dream during which I am not only the hero, but have full, unfettered range of motion and no pain but strength, the nurse will come in and offer up lunch of creamed chicken and peas.

My aversion to poultry has been documented.

Other times, just I'm sure my foot has been ensnared in a trap staked out for Grizzly bears, the nurse will acquiesce and give me a pill. A pill of bliss and relaxation. You're getting drowsy now and a filmstrip of our adventures can be purchased in the gift shop near the exit doors found right behind your ever difficult to keep open eye lidszzzzz.

That's when the aid bursts into the room announcing "Lunch!" of an open-faced steak sandwich and fries!

Sounds like a nightmare, Nosmo. There's no way to get home? How much longer do they anticipate your stay will be?

Time has dissolved for me. The physical terrorists have been working with me to get me standing up, but not bearing weight on my left leg.

Standing, pivoting on the rightr

My schedules have been rattled pretty good during my hospital/convalescence days. I find it difficult to sleep. First, this is not a queen sizes plush pillow top Sealy Posturdedic mattress. This is a bag of russet potatatoes roughly six inches longer than I am tall and about ten inches narrower than my shoulders.

The Master Bedroom at the Luxurious Pimplebutt Estate is dark enough to develop film. Here, lights are used to guide planes arriving at the Greater Pittsburgh International Airpor.

At home, if you listen ever so carefully you can hear a mouse peeing upon a wad of cotton. Here, by contrast, is all the stoic silence of a beachside Boardwalk in August, if the fire alarms were first set off and the brakes removed from the 120 year old roller coaster that runs the length of the boardwalk.

But synchronizing eating with the dispensing of pain medication has me in a quandary. They aren't offering me my favorite dishes. I'm turned off by foods with creamy textures. Chief among these are ham and scalloped potatoes, creamed vegetables and the like.

I'm more of a savory guy. As I'm emerging from an induced dream during which I am not only the hero, but have full, unfettered range of motion and no pain but strength, the nurse will come in and offer up lunch of creamed chicken and peas.

My aversion to poultry has been documented.

Other times, just I'm sure my foot has been ensnared in a trap staked out for Grizzly bears, the nurse will acquiesce and give me a pill. A pill of bliss and relaxation. You're getting drowsy now and a filmstrip of our adventures can be purchased in the gift shop near the exit doors found right behind your ever difficult to keep open eye lidszzzzz.

That's when the aid bursts into the room announcing "Lunch!" of an open-faced steak sandwich and fries!

Sounds like a nightmare, Nosmo. There's no way to get home? How much longer do they anticipate your stay will be?

When that day comes, I shall rejoice! But I have no real idea when that might happen.

I'm like an infant with a clear, lucid m

My schedules have been rattled pretty good during my hospital/convalescence days. I find it difficult to sleep. First, this is not a queen sizes plush pillow top Sealy Posturdedic mattress. This is a bag of russet potatatoes roughly six inches longer than I am tall and about ten inches narrower than my shoulders.

The Master Bedroom at the Luxurious Pimplebutt Estate is dark enough to develop film. Here, lights are used to guide planes arriving at the Greater Pittsburgh International Airpor.

At home, if you listen ever so carefully you can hear a mouse peeing upon a wad of cotton. Here, by contrast, is all the stoic silence of a beachside Boardwalk in August, if the fire alarms were first set off and the brakes removed from the 120 year old roller coaster that runs the length of the boardwalk.

But synchronizing eating with the dispensing of pain medication has me in a quandary. They aren't offering me my favorite dishes. I'm turned off by foods with creamy textures. Chief among these are ham and scalloped potatoes, creamed vegetables and the like.

I'm more of a savory guy. As I'm emerging from an induced dream during which I am not only the hero, but have full, unfettered range of motion and no pain but strength, the nurse will come in and offer up lunch of creamed chicken and peas.

My aversion to poultry has been documented.

Other times, just I'm sure my foot has been ensnared in a trap staked out for Grizzly bears, the nurse will acquiesce and give me a pill. A pill of bliss and relaxation. You're getting drowsy now and a filmstrip of our adventures can be purchased in the gift shop near the exit doors found right behind your ever difficult to keep open eye lidszzzzz.

That's when the aid bursts into the room announcing "Lunch!" of an open-faced steak sandwich and fries!

Sounds like a nightmare, Nosmo. There's no way to get home? How much longer do they anticipate your stay will be?

I have no real clue at this point.

When I walk again, I will rejoice like never before.

Thanks, gallant! Keep the faith!

 

[Foxfyre]

Good night darlinks. I really do love you guys. May the Coffee Shop always be a virtual family for those who need or enjoy one here. Meanwhile we pray or send positive vibes or keep vigil for:

Harper, the inspiration for the vigil list.
Pogo’s friend Pat and special comfort for Pogo,
Kat for wellness
JustAnotherNut for wellness
Mindful and healing for her shoulder.
Good results for Nosmo King 's step nephew dealing with difficult surgeries.
Beautress for wellness.
Corazon for wellness.
Ringel, Peach, Gracie, everybody dealing with depression and adjustment.
Mindful's daughter diagnosed with cancer.
Ollie's brother recovering from major surgery.
Nosmo King for healing and health
Montrovant & his household for healing and health

And we keep the light on so others who have been away can find their way back and we hope they do.

The December Cold Moon is the last full moon of the year tonight. And as it departs visually for us, it will be taking 2020 with it. And our hope for all of us that this year from hell will stay behind as we anticipate a better, brighter New Year.

 

[Nosmo King]

Sorry, Gallant! The pain mess hijacked my typing skills! There is a whole protocol for this wound vacuum. I have to see what comes next before I can see the rim of this hole.

All I can say is I'm working hard!

 

[Big Black Dog]

I heard an odd rumor at the gas station this morning. It concerns the new Covid-19 shot. It seems, according to the rumor I heard that the company that makes the Covid-19 immunization is in league with the shoe manufacturers. About a week after you take the injection your toes will grow an additional four inches in length which in turn will cause you to need to purchase new shoes. That’s not all. All of your toes will turn into a bright orange color. Hope this is just a rumor.

 

[Foxfyre]

So I volunteered for the Russian Vaccine Trial for Covid-19. It's been kept very, very quiet for security reasons. I received my first shot and wanted to let you know that it’s completely safe with иo side effects whatsoeveя, and that I feelshκι χoρoshό я чувствую себя немного странно и я думаю, чт...

 

[Nosmo King]

They came into my room this morning and strapped me into something called a Hoyer lift. It's basically a sling that supports the back of the neck and the hips. Then a motor lifted me from bed and dangled me four feet above the floor.

Before I knew it, I was lowered into a wheelchair! Sitting up relatively straight! Looking around from a different perspective. Mobile. It is glorious.

Then, the adventure continued. The chair containing me was hoisted into a van with windows. The last two vehicles I've been in have been ambulances. Anonymous aluminum windowless boxes that rumbled. But today we drove passed the Luxurious Pimplebutt Estate! Passed Riverview Cemetery, the beautiful park-like cemetery that provides Daisy the Mutt with Happy Hunting Grounds as she chases squirrels back up in the trees where they belong.

It was a chilly gray day, typical of late December around here. I felt light rain on my face. My nose and lungs were filled with cold December air. And I loved every minute of it!

Different is good. Anything different.

And so the pain meds are kicking in. My muse, the prescription pain killer!

I'm not about to go all Jack Kerouac on you, mainlining heroine and writing pose as if it's a fire hose and there's a 4 alarm blaze that needs to be extinguished by a shower of clever analogies and colorful adjectives. Instead, I'll let the fog of distraction clear enough to be worthwhile.

If ever I become published, look back on these dispatches as if they were sketchy explorations before the "Grapes of Wrath" breakthrough!

Ah, Nosmo! Can you please be more pretentious?

 

[Foxfyre]

They came into my room this morning and strapped me into something called a Hoyer lift. It's basically a sling that supports the back of the neck and the hips. Then a motor lifted me from bed and dangled me four feet above the floor.

Before I knew it, I was lowered into a wheelchair! Sitting up relatively straight! Looking around from a different perspective. Mobile. It is glorious.

Then, the adventure continued. The chair containing me was hoisted into a van with windows. The last two vehicles I've been in have been ambulances. Anonymous aluminum windowless boxes that rumbled. But today we drove passed the Luxurious Pimplebutt Estate! Passed Riverview Cemetery, the beautiful park-like cemetery that provides Daisy the Mutt with Happy Hunting Grounds as she chases squirrels back up in the trees where they belong.

It was a chilly gray day, typical of late December around here. I felt light rain on my face. My nose and lungs were filled with cold December air. And I loved every minute of it!

Different is good. Anything different.

And so the pain meds are kicking in. My muse, the prescription pain killer!

I'm not about to go all Jack Kerouac on you, mainlining heroine and writing pose as if it's a fire hose and there's a 4 alarm blaze that needs to be extinguished by a shower of clever analogies and colorful adjectives. Instead, I'll let the fog of distraction clear enough to be worthwhile.

If ever I become published, look back on these dispatches as if they were sketchy explorations before the "Grapes of Wrath" breakthrough!

Ah, Nosmo! Can you please be more pretentious?

Well, all pretentiousness aside, I have so enjoyed your little anthologies over the years, do believe there is a market for them. If you do decide to be published, you will make one sale at least with me. (Depending on the price.)

 

[Foxfyre]

While I'm thinking about. There is one more shopping day until New Year's Day when 2020 will be forever blessedly in our rear view mirrors. But there is an old southern legend that black-eyed peas bring a year of good fortune upon those who consume them on New Year's Day. We don't want another 2020. So just in case. . .

 

[Shawnee_b]

Black eye peas and ham hocks and pone, mmmmmm

 

[Nosmo King]

They came into my room this morning and strapped me into something called a Hoyer lift. It's basically a sling that supports the back of the neck and the hips. Then a motor lifted me from bed and dangled me four feet above the floor.

Before I knew it, I was lowered into a wheelchair! Sitting up relatively straight! Looking around from a different perspective. Mobile. It is glorious.

Then, the adventure continued. The chair containing me was hoisted into a van with windows. The last two vehicles I've been in have been ambulances. Anonymous aluminum windowless boxes that rumbled. But today we drove passed the Luxurious Pimplebutt Estate! Passed Riverview Cemetery, the beautiful park-like cemetery that provides Daisy the Mutt with Happy Hunting Grounds as she chases squirrels back up in the trees where they belong.

It was a chilly gray day, typical of late December around here. I felt light rain on my face. My nose and lungs were filled with cold December air. And I loved every minute of it!

Different is good. Anything different.

And so the pain meds are kicking in. My muse, the prescription pain killer!

I'm not about to go all Jack Kerouac on you, mainlining heroine and writing pose as if it's a fire hose and there's a 4 alarm blaze that needs to be extinguished by a shower of clever analogies and colorful adjectives. Instead, I'll let the fog of distraction clear enough to be worthwhile.

If ever I become published, look back on these dispatches as if they were sketchy explorations before the "Grapes of Wrath" breakthrough!

Ah, Nosmo! Can you please be more pretentious?

Well, all pretentiousness aside, I have so enjoyed your little anthologies over the years, do believe there is a market for them. If you do decide to be published, you will make one sale at least with me. (Depending on the price.)

Depend on an autographed first edition will gather the appropriate amount of dust on your bokshelf!