BarkEEp 3

So I walk into my favorite bar at one in the mornin', see, and the place is dead, like I been sucked into the anti-blogosphere. The regulars are all there; they just ain't talkin' and there's this new guy polishing the bar. I saunter to my bar stool but it's covered with ash. So I says, "What kinda smokes make this much mess?"

"Writers," the barman says, then glares. "What'll it be?"

I sit on a different stool, feelin' awkward. "Um--" I read his name tag. "EE, gimme a Shirley Temple with extra syr