On my way to the mamoo's house this weekend there was the usual congestion at the tollbooth, which let me rest my eyes on the array of band stickers that people slap on the guardrails that line the approach.
Snuggler? I read snuggler:
It was, of course, smuggler. They're trying to be all hard, and I read it as soft and squishy.
Which reminded me of the time last week, also while visiting the mama, when I read this:
as lamé, not lame. I kind of love what this says about my subconscious self.
Clearly part of an ongoing series, here, as I continue to get older and more free in my thinking :)