Late night woops.
http://mountainmoonvolcano.com/
The loss of his clothes hardly mattered, because
He had seven coats on when he came,
With three pair of boots--but the worst of it was,
He had wholly forgotten his name.
He would answer to "Hi!" or to any loud cry,
Such as "Fry me!" or "Fritter my wig!"
"What-you-may-call-um!" or "What-was-his-name!"
But especially "Thing-um-a-jig!"
(Lewis Carroll, The Hunting of the Snark)
El horrible plan de planear.
Suave.
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