Presently Immune To Tugs

That hard boiled bent of my last posted expression allowed me to cruise for a spell in MacDonald's Underground Man and then I found my form and dashed into Chabon's The Yiddish Policeman's Union. Yesterday afternoon I was sitting on the porch, tears in my eyes pondering the Sikta Settlements in Eskimo lands and I then compared such with the present stage in Iran. This isn't going to end well.