So the bum in front of the church across the road seemed fully into his Gameboy this morning, pressing its little buttons like mad. And then I realised, he didn’t _have_ the Gameboy.*
In other news, I’m apparently an Angst Writer. Oh, please, bite me (she said, morosely). I’d paste the dooverlacky text in, but I didn’t bother copying it when I had the chance. Quiz here.
*I guess when you get real good at it, you don’t even need the Gameboy to be physically present. That’s probably the final level: Metaphysical Gameboy for the Spiritual Masters.