Here are the tweets and some meats. The tweets took me to a fleet and a new program. It is short and sweet; to the point for the end of a joint. It is my counterpoint, my notes on how and why I row. It is really for the slow realization that I have been screwed most of my life and I am done. Being blonde, being a frond, sitting in someone’s palm. I’ve taken the reins. A horse can take the bit in its mouth between his teeth. It’s called, grabbing the bit. He has control and can take his rider anywhere he wills it, perhaps for a lesson or two in reality.