The Earnest Reader: Is it that time of year already?

TDIA: What?  Why do you people keep wandering in here and bothering me?  What time of year?

The Earnest Reader:  Bloomsday.

TDIA: Already?

The Earnest Reader: Exactly what I was saying.  So?

TDIA: So?  What?

The Earnest Reader: Will there be Twiterature this year.

TDIA: Eh yeah sure. Was just a bit distracted lamenting the bloom coming off the rows of cast steel in the world Cup.  Eh here you are:, Picking up from where we left off last year comes this year’s twiterature installment of Ulysses:

gown, ungirdled, was sustained gently behind him on the mild morning air. He held the bowl aloft and intoned:–_Introibo ad altare Dei_.  Ha

The Earnest Reader: Ah, that’s fabulous?  do ye count spaces.

TDIA: We do.  Why.

The Earnest Reader: Just figuring.

TDIA: What?

The Earnest Reader: Well at this rate it’ll take another 10,628 years to do the whole thing.  See ye next year.

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