back in piqua for solo christmas

but not han. just working on the shop/house all day, cutting firewood, listening to my stories on the tv, and, of course, playing and singing all my favorite christmas songs on the guitar. e.g., "when i left my home and my family / i was no more than a boy / in the company of strangers / in the quiet of the railway station running scared." and the classic: "toss me a cigarette / i think there's one in my raincoat. / we smoked the last one an hour ago. / so i looked out at the scenery; / she read her magazine. / and the moon rose over an open field." all sober. weird. strong. tough. peaceful (other than "new girl"). 7 months this friday. i think. al misses me, i just know it. and i miss him. and casey dog, of course. or that may be that moonpie misses casey. too close to call. bob evans, christmas eve. even though my well pump exploded and i have not running water, my new stove is threatening to chase me out of the shop it's so hot. not bad for a good for nothing drunk.

the protocols of the elders of zion, the movie: part 1:

the wrath of adamos ben yauchstein the younger or something. -ish.

thanks

6 months tomorrow. 6 months. i can't do this alone. i think i'm most grateful that i don't have to. by the way, i'm the weirdo-esque dude in the corner with that inexplicable danny branch facial expression that's both a confused smile and a maudlin 3.9 mile stare. (screw you, keif!) so, yeah, save me a seat.

the 1st annual dress as your favorite tom robbins character day

having trouble getting any traction on this one. so i'll probably just go as that gal with the giant thumbs, seeing as how i've pummeled mine into huge bruised stumps on account of my insane desire to salvage a bunch of useless crap. again. with a pry bar.

but i've got today. and it was a really good day. rain, which gives moonpie a chance to do her white fang thing.

the 2011th* american music awards!

seriously? does anyone else want lauren hill to swagger out there on the stage and oldschool all these pukes while wiping the floor with them? in their own puke? er... hmm...

anyways, can't find my beasties.

in pickaway (piqua) tonight, brought computer, big day tomorrow. all y'all are on duty! may buy yet another woodstove this week. and a harley. long story.

*this establishment reserves the right to refuse service of leftovers

the most important thing i've learned in a.a.:

humility. and how to make really bad bad coffee. and you know what? it's humbling!?!?!?!?!

sorry. anyways, back to piqua this weekend at some point. mild weather till whenever. it's just that the nights make it hard to sleep when i'm very cold, and hard to make synax agree with itself.

that's deep. you guys?

piqua, yet

still there. spent 3 nights and 4 days on demolition and wood salvage. cold but some sun. moonpie loved it, just the 2 of us. found out al was frantic the whole time i was there; something about it being too soon. i tried to explain to him how i feel spoiled here, with heat and plumbing, and that if i want to drink i will no matter where i am. he was not comforted.

i'm beginning to realize that i wasn't nearly as coddled as i thought everyone thought i was. piqua has so many awesome possibilities, though i know beer is out there doing pushups, waiting for me to slip up. just a bit. well, i won't. but i don't want to jinx it!

also, hey.

"... too much fucking perspective."
-david st. hubbins