TubeNet

... from the Chippewa on down, of the big lake they call Gitchee Gumee, Superior, they say, never gives up her dead when the skies of November turn gloomy...

It has come to my attention that, when a load of iron ore (weighing at approx. twenty-six thousand tons more than the vessel weighed sans the ore) is brought upon the Edmund Fitzgerald, said vessel (no matter how good and true) achieves the status of a bone to the gales of November and is thoroughly chewed.


Or so I have been told.

Who are you people and how did you get in my living room?

Chuck"seemingly as relevant as the original post"Jackson

the elephant wrote:My cat's breath smells like cat food.

He must not use Hetman's.