Hemmed in like a boar between arches...

Hooray! The Devil is dead, now everyone is free to do whatever they wish.

Oh Mr. Punch, you kill me.

Free coffee is coming for me next week, courtesy of a friend from GENCON. This is good, considering how heavily dependent I am on the stuff.

The weather is starting to cool off (high 80's) and I'm no longer boiling like a bug in bourbon. Of course, with cooler weather comes sleeping with the windows open. And you know what comes with that? Motorcycles. Those annoying kinds that go super-fast and super-loud and sound like an alligator be run through a blender. So one of these obnoxious fucks goes tearing down the street at 1:30am and scares the crap out of me. He should be back tonight, and I'll be waiting. He needs to be fitted for a size .22 suit. Let's dress the man...

This weekend, fun is planned for all. The cooper-young festival in midtown (a hippy-fest of crafts, junk, and home-grown 'music') will see our group, and lunch at Molly's!!! Getting my hair cut with Angela, the greatest pink-n-purple, pierced, tattooed punk stylist in Memphis!

Fantasy football: I'm 1-0!! My team (the Crash Test Bunnies) has a big game this week vs. the Mighty Sock Monkeys, but they're goin' down like a prom date on the titanic 'coz we're 1-0 baby!!!

I'm out.

-b

Thought I'd share this with you...

The man who sailed around his soul
From east to west, from pole to pole
With ego as his drunken captain
Greed, the mutineer, had trapped all reason in the hold

The man who walked across his heart
Who took no compass, guide or chart
To rope and tar his blood congealed
When he found his self revealed ugly and cold

And the sirens that sing
By your nose with its ring
Theyll drag you in
For your sins

Now he sits all alone
And its no place like home
Its empty skin
A bag to keep lifes souvenirs in
The man who sailed around his soul...

The man who sailed around his soul
Came back again to find a hole
Where once he thought compassion and the truth
Had laid to warm his freezing carcass on return

The man who walked across his heart
Was doomed to journey from the start
Of every love affair hed broken
All the lies hed ever spoken
Tattooed on his arm
And the jellyfish stings
Even angels with wings
Who look too deep
And dare to peep

Now he sits all alone
Knowing flesh blood and bone
Is everything
He found the treasure hed been seeking...

Undertow...

Since when did the 'newgirl' get the right to pick on the veteran?! Anyways, newgirl starts in on how my *sigh* brings down the whole office, FOLLOWED BY how she doesn't really know anything about me. Seems you would want to do these two things in reverse. I mean, really.
Welcome aboard, newgirl! We've taken it easy on you so far...

Anyways, back to yoga this week. Missing 2 weeks is going to be murder.
Also, been neglecting my farm lately...

To sleep, perchance to burn...

This past week:
• Bit by a spider or equally annoying insect.
• Hummingbirds now in an aggressive territorial death match with each other.
• Laptop's monitor dies.
• Had to buy a new one.
• I hate Memphis this week, especially when SOME PEOPLE get to go to Seattle.
• My headache is back.
• I'm really cranky about everything this week, it's only Tuesday and I'm ready for the weekend.

"But in the flesh how would it be
If you could really see
The weaknesses you never knew
Alive and staring back at you..."

MonstroCity...

This picture and the stingray photo were taken at the City Museum in St. Louis, a sort of twisted wonderland of discarded objects from around the city. For example, if you have an old bank vault door lying around, the museum might want to buy it from you and make an exhibit out of it. This was the most unique museum experience I've ever been a part of. Tomorrow will be the art museum. Home on Tuesday.

Crikey: Croc Hunter gets the 'high hard one' from misunderstood skate...

Official Rumors was deeply saddened to hear of the untimely death of Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter. While filming a new series titled "Stingrays--A diver's best friend", Irwin became only the 3rd person on record to died from a stingray. I'm currently writing from my hotel in St. Louis, and after hearing the news this morning, went to the St. Louis City Museum where I could pet stingrays in a tank. I'm not sure what the big deal is, since the rays were all too happy to have me pet them. Interesting note, www.jerusalemtimes.com reported Irwin's death took place during a 'DRIVING" accident (not a 'diving' accident). I honestly pictured him driving his truck down a dusty Australian road with a cooler containing a capture stingray, the truck rolling over and the cooler coming open spilling the creature onto Irwin's chest. People in Jerusalem need to spellcheck. Diving makes a lot more sense.

People and animals alike will miss Steve Irwin.