(4 PM – promoted by TheMomCat)
I woke up when you said,
“it’s late, and I’m feeling heavy,
could you hold my aching head?”
-Daniel Lanois (Acadie)
We gots a little rain in the American Bread-basket that is Gullyvornya. Peace be to Jimmeny Christmas & the Gulf Stream, et al. The farmers yanked back their tarps from their hoop greenhouses as a gesture of welcome, because watering your crops and orchards in December is considered a bad sign around here. It’s still a bad year, but count the blessings that come.
My buddy G sez my “later” blogging (if and when it ever actually happens) sounds like the late saxophone squigglings of the Weather Underground brass section (he is one of the funniest and more profound capitalists you will ever meet, and that means something).
G also sez Orlov’s Five Stages of Collapse was clarifying.
Returning to his & mine ancient drinking hijinx, Big G wrote:
Speaking of baking cakes, your Bro Mike has never forgiven me for the Twain Hart Scandal of 1980!
By the thinnest of hairs we escaped the Big Bust. But you and J. were Incorrigible, with escapades in the bushes of TH despite all my entreaties and protests!
At an uncertain time later I ralphed in the tributary of Cow Creek and collapsed into a deep slumber (or coma)! And youz guyz hijacked the Chevelle and went down the hill for more booze (or female accompaniment)!
You were 19, and I was 21. How do we get back there?!?
You gotta be a brother to your brothers and sis’s. That is built-in programming.
Now, enjoy some Daniel Lanois: