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October 3, 2005

The Eschatologist: Sing, O Muse

What a fine "how do you do".

After such a long trip, you'd think I'd be able to come home, kick back, and put up the sandals. But no. I've got this house full of people eating my food, drinking my best wine and generally pissing me off.

Can I trust Penelope? My old nurse, seeing through my disguise, says she's all good.

The archery contest was a joke. None of those assholes could even string the bow, let alone shoot through twelve axes. Go me!

I thanked Telemachus for the help, but I didn't need it. Just ask Scylla.

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