Where is that boy? (Socks CDXXXIII)

Still nothing, nada, zilch. Oh well. If you know where Les is, tell him to stay in touch.

Where is that guy? (Socks CDXXXIII)

Sorry... still no word folks.

Subbing for Les (Socks CDIXL)

The word on the street is that Les has nearly solved his computer problem, but nothing has been forwarded to me. Sorry fans.

No Word

Still no word from the main man, so we'll see if we can at least make it look like the rest of Les' other postings.

Where has he gone?

While Les is getting his computers fixed, let me introduce myself. My name is Forever Jung, but you can call me Fore.

I’m going to be posting Les’ story; just posting, not writing them while he is off orienteering in the Smokey Mountains. Just remember Les, that compass needle of yours always points to the EAST and then you’ll never get lost.

Good luck!

Where's Les?

Les' computers are down. He will update the adventures of Rar and Lar as soon as he is able.

Referee (Socks CDXXVIII)

“No one cares if you two hate each other, but we can’t carry a conversation with all the bickering.”
“If you don’t like it, don’t listen.”
“We can’t help but listen, your fighting dominates the room.”
“Just leave us alone.”
Now the silence was thick and uncomfortable. Had the objects had knowledge of professional sports, someone, perhaps could have broken the ice with, “What about those Red Wings.” Instead, the silence continued while Match finished her duties. She cleaned the bench, stacked some boxes, and swept the room.
Match put a card in the clock, pushed a lever.
“Click, thump.”