|O the futility!|
Attention: The Mgt of The Non Sequitur has announced a new dress code for all patrons. Guests must be found clad in ensembles suggest a certain cheerful Jungian topiary futility or, failing that, an aphoristic foray into the heady cabalistic insousciance of a 1959 Jamaican death cult. Any patron failing to adhere to these ontological fin-de-siècle wardrobe guidelines will either run the risk of dining al fresco with Claude -- or worse, they will be italicized for the duration of their Non Sequitur experience, and all future experiences. And yes, Wednesdays are still articulated. No weasels, please. You know who you are.
|Claude is always intense.|