The end is, indeed, dear reader, near. Jimmy “J.J.” Walker was on the TV this afternoon pimpin’ Medicare. That hit a little too close to home. It’s been Pat Boone for the last 50 years, and now, all of a sudden it’s Kid Dyn-O-mite. Jesus. We’re all gonna die.
N.P.: “Save It For Later” – The English Beat
What used to be months now pass as quickly as a day once did. Same for years as months. Time is treacherous. As is this wretched goddamn heat.
N.P.: “Gun” – Buckcherry
I should be angry and spouting invective about this wretched heat. But at some point one must admit to oneself that one, for good or ill, at some point chose to live in the middle of a goddamn desert, and therefore one must artfully cope with the consequences of such a stupid decision, with such consequences being entire weeks of high temps in the 120s and…and I suppose that’s it. But still…that alone is positively soul killing. Not to mention those gigantic, malignant arachnids. Or the rattlesnakes. Or the turkey vultures. Arrogant pricks.
Anyway, today was okay as far as Sundays go. Wrote a bit. There was BBQ.
N.P.: “Beat to Death Like a Dog” – Rhino Bucket
No idea where Friday went. It is now, allegedly, Saturday, but I’m not entirely convinced. Dubious as I may about the veracity of claims of Saturdayness, one this is certain: I am exhausted. Completely fuckin’ fried. And Time is doing unholy things.
N.P.: “Ain’t No Easy Way” – Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
Jesus. The Angst is upon me in a nasty way, it’s 140° outside…both street and sidewalk had melted by 16:00, and strange religious people keep showing up howling about how near The End is. Who knows…maybe they’re right. Wouldn’t be the worst thing.
In a sudden and unpredicted move, I decided to leave The Haunt today, and went for a drive in the Panty Dropper. I got about half a mile before I saw a freshly constructed fireworks stand, which put in dark states of depression and piss off. So I turned around and drove back home.
N.P.: “Time Has Come Today” – Ramones
What the hell happened to today? It was just starting about an hour ago, and now, somehow, impossibly, it’s night. Did that happen to you, dear reader, or is just another one of those weird “me things.” Anyway, oh well, I guess. Maybe tomorrow will stick around a little longer that today did.
N.P.: “We Gotta Get Out Of This Place” – D.O.A.
Just busy as hell today, exuberant reader. Wrote a bunch.
N.P.: “I’m A Man” – The Spencer Davis Group
Heat Strike Day 3. First day of summer. Longest day of the year. Conversely, the shortest night, natch. I’m not happy about any of it, dear reader. Just disgusting. #fuckthesun
N.P.: “Ol’ Glory” – JJ Grey and Mofro
All activities cancelled once again today due to solar flares and intolerable meteorological villainy. This is ridiculous…it’s like fucking Mogadishu outside. I am on a heat strike.
N.P.: “Big Sugar” – Ride Like Hell
All activities cancelled today due to solar flares and intolerable meteorological villainy.
N.P.: “Middle of Nowhere (feat. Chad Kroeger)” – Big Wreck