Eff Off is Mercury in Retrograde?!

Not for a week? Well, it started early for me. However, I just stumbled on this, and I just have to say: It Will Be on the Next Yule Mix. Meow, Amen

The Cinematic Orchestra – All That You Give

Watch Ms. Bass. Watch her sing to your soul. Also, I want to own a night club like that someday.

Pics of His Ass

You know how people show you pics of their vacation, and at first it seems like, sure – you might want to see some. And then after 3 you’re so done. You don’t care. You took a better vacation once, and you have a better eye for the camera shots. This is where I should sign up for Facebook so I can see your life. I am so self centered.

This is Upper Bidwell Park, in my hometown, Chico, California. I didn’t contact any family while I was there. I mean, why – it’s a vacation. Instead, I swam with fishes, ate the best Mexican food in the region, had the best shake made on planet Earth, drank all the tasters at Sierra Nevada Brewery, and walked and walked and rode a cruiser bike with Charlie’s ass in tow. It was rad, and I should have ate and drank more.

Then to the coast – Fort Bragg/Mendicino region. Camped at a special place that I grew up going to every summer, where there the tide pools are particularly terrific and the beaches are amazing. Charlie was perfect, totally perfect, well-behaved and easy to travel with, and such a stud muffin prince. I’m just saying. He’s perfect.

Up to the thick redwoods, to Prairie Creek State Park, a ginormous fantastic magic place. We scored a camping spot right on the beach. Charlie summoned his animal friends from the sea, who would follow us up and down the beach. We even saw dolphins, but they were too far away to get pictures. I’m not lying, dude. There were two dolphins hunting with their bird friends on wee morning, while I was just sitting there having coffee with Charles at my side. But these dudes were way fun, and weren’t afraid of Charlie.

Anywho, it was a great & thrifty trip to a coast people forget about. Your mom sure had a great time.

The end.

I think he loves me. Sometimes.

Possible Giardia, and Can Somebody Bring me a Beer?

Yesterday I came home to a living room full of shit. I’m not sure how else to emphasize that last sentence. The entire floor had shit all over it, in piles and splatters. Apparently, Charlie didn’t feel so good. I fixed it with laborious creativity, and medicine paste, but today Lucky Lou has poo all over her bloomers from her own self and the litterbox made me gag. I cannot wait for Chi Chi’s. Hers will be the most innovative.

I am exhausted and also very tired from my own excretions as well, and after camping on a Thermarest (TM), I’ve realized how crappy my own bed is. That thing really wants to make my life miserable. No amounts of smudging or orgasms will help me sleep better on that piece of BaltarBalls. But first I need a raise, kitty vet dental visits, and a poke in the eye.

So I’m bent over naked

trying to flush, and the dude that walked into the campground’s potty is all, “Uh, Sorry.” So what do I do? I turn around. And show him the front. Then I realize what I’m doing and I put my hand there to try to cover it, like that works.

So I left him a grumpy as a third present.

The Most Awesome Dog

A sneak peek of the much needed vacation. He’s so frakkin’ rad, this duder:

Fatties with Crunked-Up Grills

Dude, the vet said they are fat and need to be put on a restricted diet and that they have the gums of a cat 10 years older than them. But that their fur is real pretty. And at least they’re not as fat as your mom. Their mouths will cost me about $200 each every year for the rest of their lives. They have to be put under like surgery, and that’s at the cheap-ass clinic. She said it’s because of being bottle-raised, or genetics, or whatever, but it really made me sad and mad. It looks so bad in their grills that they could loose some teeth if I don’t whore myself to find some more money. Mama’s on a tight budget, bitches.

From the start they’ve been money-taxing, terrible felines. They almost died, had fleas and ringworm that they gave to the rest of us, infected who-ha’s, constipation, and I can’t even tell you about the long nights. I mean, look how awful they were:

Princess, Slut, and Jack Rabbit

The cats hate me when I give Princess Charles a bone. They treat him and I with such disdain, it drives me to grab another beer just to tolerate their protest.

Chi Chi is such a slutty whore with wanting to smell the treat, I have to monitor the situation. Charlie gets confused with her advances.

This is what my summer eves consist of. I really need a vacation.

I’m still not over you.

I’ve sat teary-eyed at work for two days. I don’t know what to say; the words are just on the brink of being there, then I don’t have the adjectives. I don’t even know if I’m using semi-colons right. All the memories wash over me in waves, and I smile a sad smile or shake my head in disbelief. I try to focus on the memories that make the most sense, and I play them over and over again. Which is just craziness.

See what the frak I’m talkin bout: click on this, and click on THIS, yo.

It’s crazy. I cannot bring myself to complete thoughts about what happened at the end. It blows my mind and puts me in humble awe, yet I still haven’t reconciled with it.

That universal language that brings everything together. Layers of intuitively knowing. The music is in the frakking Earth. Every once and a while somebody picks it up and channels it out, rare and beautiful. Stop and listen.

The pit in my stomach feels like it’s renewed energy, reminding me of what my connection to Earth and creativity means. Should mean.
It’s wackadoodle to put this kind of weight into story and music, but it moves me so. I need something to move me. We all do. At least this didn’t cause 50K in student loans. My regret is not being at that show. No, Frak regrets, I’m sick of them.

I Die

I have died from the heat. The End.