The latest involves George Chander success, getting the pool right and pop goes the weasel now it's just getting tires. The tiazac change is either just starting to evidence itself or my ass is falling off there's always another challenge. No sense wasting time pretending "if I weren't preoccupied, I'd be taking charge" because who cares? The solution always depends on maintaining the ability to see what's going on ACTUALLY. Shit-spaces just have to be dealt with using a clear mind and we're still working on that. Thankfully, she's been amazing so the imperative is not absolute, but rather requiring the ability to see it. Time will tell.

Anonymity. The crepe noir of the 'Teens. Not talkin' about "I can call you an asshole and you don't know me" anonymity, but more like "only the people I care about mean anything to me about opinions." Can you picture transplanting potted flora and fauna into new pots and getting a woodie? It sounds serious but it's more about gathering in the sheaths than dramatizing chronic fatigue. OK, so the air deflates and the womp-womp noise of a flat tire is your current theme song, it's all manageable. Seriously, I'm sitting here semi-upright, pretty much ready to recline and watch a movie and writing this because it sits atop the thoughts that are spiralling. It becomes the script where Ben Affleck says that I, me - I'm cast as Alfred Pennyworth. I bring to the part a lifetime of anti-Batman accomplishments including creating a french drain that never surrendered, slid sideways thru 5 lanes of traffic and even drove in front of an 18 wheeler just to determine if I'd land on my feet. Diane Keaton wasn't available to play my girlfriend so I kissed the sky. Ergonomics is the foremost aspect of watching a movie in your underpants and if that needs explanation you can't handle the truth. Tomorrow I'll make a new promise effective tomorrow. I probably should have sold Amway---
from '13
Why'd the semen cross the road? I wore the wrong pair of socks