Gordon Liddy is my muse. In the Tunnel of Love, A Tale of the Cold War.

Black Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday.

Holmes, Payne, on the case.

1.

The third Reich is a low hobby of mine,

well behind Wells' time machine and cowboys like Gordon Liddy.

So I was in lazy humor when I booked a posh cabin on a ferry out of Helsinki and sailed

for my first visit to Germany, 1985.

Truth, I was headed deep into Deutschland to visit my colossal baby brother,

the Centurion, on guard with our elite armored cavalry at the right flank of the infamous

fold a gap. Our branch of pains are citizens soldiers, the same year Lord Protector Cromwell

quit his earthly travail for a colony in Hades.

Subsequently, the pains fit the forest and swamps of the Carolinas for a century of dirt farming, childmaking, and potshotting

at the Okanichis and Sesquahamics.

Moving on, there were several pains who fit the Frenchers behind Braddock and Washington.

More who fit the redcoats behind Washington, and one who fit the redcoats in the retreat from the burning capital

building in 1812.

Yes, remember the redcoated devils burnt our capital and the President's House too.

So what was this unbalanced Angophilia?

The Blackhawk Indian War had a Buckeye Farm Boy.

The Mexican War had a vagabond who died of cholera and the Civil War

was so crammed with pain boys on both sides, half of whom called it the war of the secession.

...