I was complimented earlier in the week for being “so well put together” for being someone so constantly stressed and under pressure.  She wanted to know how I do it.  I thanked her for the compliment but told her honestly: “However well I may appear to be ‘put together,’ it’s a total illusion.  The truth is my nerves are completely shot.  Every single day I wake up and wonder if I’ll get through the entire day, or is this when the breakdown finally happens.”  We talked for a while longer, and in the end, I decided it might be beneficial to start letting my physical appearance better reflect what’s going on in the other side of these eyes.
So I went to the drugstore and bought a pack of Dunhills.  I don’t smoke and I’m not about to start.  I’m just going to start showing up on video calls with an unlit cigarette hanging limply out of the corner of my mouth, wearing sunglasses constantly, regardless of time of day or setting.

N.P.: “Thunder on the Mountain” – Wanda Jackson

Fuck yo couch, dear reader.  Fuck.  Yo.  Couch!
#Buyanotherone,yourichmotherfucker!

N.P.: “Black Soul Choir” – 16 Horsepower

I’m adding Trevor Noah to the list of People I Want To Fight.  Saw him for the first time today…kind of amazed/disappointed that such a fundamentally unfunny person is making a living in “comedy.”  But yeah…I’m d\totally willing to engage in stand-up comedy challenge/MMA fight/songwriting competition/whatever with this jackass.  Not so much to defeat him as to remind society of what they’ve been settling for and what they’ve been missing.

Allergy Valley is rumbling with thunder this evening.  I like it.

N.P.: “Good Times, Bad Times” – Godsmack

Jesus Christ, dear reader…I look like hell.  Something must be done about this.

N.P.: “Vaccine Daddy” – Richard Cheese

Today was a pain in the ass even by Mondays’ standards.  But I got through it.  As did you, apparently, dearest reader…I’m very glad of that.
Talked to a few friends today.  I’m trying to do that more…make time for friends.  I have this rather perverted world view that includes the belief that once we become friends, we will remain friends until such time as one of us actively ends the friendship.  So it doesn’t matter if I haven’t spoken to you in 30 years…we’re still friends.  At least in my mind we are.  But apparently the rest of the world, or at least a lot of the rest of the world, doesn’t think that way.  My friends seem to understand that any relationship with me is likely to be unique, but that doesn’t mean they should have to go decades without contact.  So I’m working on that.
Of course, with all the time spent catching up with friends, I didn’t write shit today.

N.P.: “Soul Bossanova – 7″ edit” – Skeewiff

It’s been an uncharacteristically productive three days.  No idea why.  Maybe I’m just finally getting tired of my own brand of bullshit when it comes to that malignant goddamn To-Do List.

N.P.: “Left Behind” – Scarecrow Blues Hip Hop

Happy Saturday, loyal reader.  Whiskey and wings all around, I hope.  That definitely happened here.
I hate March in California so much.  Cherry blossoms everywhere…just raising hell with my allergies.  I’ve had some lovely homes on some lovely coasts and during my time living in each of them, I was able to totally forget that I had aggressive allergies and hay fever.  With the frequent rain and constant sea breeze, the air was always completely free of allergens.  But I just had to move back here, to Allergy Valley, and now my goddamn sinuses are feeling rather acrimonious about the whole deal.  And now suddenly these cherry blossoms everywhere.  If ever you want to know how it feels to be a vampire in the Vatican, start sneezing and wheezing uncontrollably in public during a pandemic.  The first two or three sneezes were so strong, they blew my mask apart…split it right in two.  So everything after that was all out into the ecosphere, totally unfiltered.  I was given absurdly wide berth.

N.P.: “Orange Monkey” – The Antler King

I went to both the mall and Costco today by myself, unarmed.  I mean, I had my switchblade, of course, but not Taser™ or stun grenades or anything like that.  This is big progress for me.  Though there were a few tense moments, I survived, with a body count of zero.  With any luck, that was the last time I’ll have to go either place, ever.

N.P.: “The Cycle” – Virgos Merlot

Another ludicrous day, dear reader.  The was a kerfuffle, at one point, with 20 – 30 angry-for-no-apparent-reason wild turkeys.  Arrogant, wattle-havin’ motherfuckers.  Fortunately they came to their collective senses before I had to get all apex predator on them.  Nervy little bastards.  Oh yeah, when they’re all together in a rafter, they’re all thuggish.  But you get one of them alone, it’s Thanksgiving all over.  Which, by the way, was just a few months ago.  You’d think they’d learn.  If all of one species in my neighborhood feasted on all of my species one day out of the year, I would tread pretty lightly the rest of the year.  They should talk to the skunks and the racoons…those goddamn racoons may have left the area completely after our last conversation.
I like animals well enough, but all the animals around here seem to be assholes.  Maybe I’ll install a bat house under the eves…kill off the mosquito population, freak out the neighbors, and bats aren’t assholes.  Yes.  It’s decided.  Coming this summer to The Haunt: Bat House.

N.P.: “Just One Kiss” – Imelda May, Noel Gallagher, Ronnie Wood

The Angst is upon me once again, dear reader.  Of course, when is it not?  I’ve had a pernicious and acute case of the The Angst since about 1993.  Much like rust, it never sleeps.
I remain irreparably disappointed in Americans.  They collectively lost their critical thinking skills, seemingly intentionally,  which has left them pathetically gullible and easily bullied.  They deny they’re being bullied because they figured out that if they just side with the bullies, the bullies will leave them alone.  They don’t need to be beaten into submission: they’ve already submitted.  They were not given toy guns as children.  As adolescents they engaged in sport without scores being kept, with the very concept of competition being deemed dangerous because with competition come the concepts of defeat, failure and loss, and you are far too special and delicate to feel any of those things.  They reach adulthood without being able to conjugate the verb “to fight.”  They have received participation awards and taken them seriously, even though everyone else got one too.  With no coping mechanisms to deal with the idea of experiencing a negative emotion ever, it was inevitable that they could only expect the world to change to suit the sensitive needs of their fragile little psyches.  They were taught that there is nothing worse than being offended and thus they were totally justified in absolutely destroying anyone who offended them.  Naturally, any behavior or idea, person or group they didn’t agree with became “offensive.”  And the cowardly Americans went along with it!  They’re watching as businesses they love and people they’re friends with are getting “cancelled,” and their dominant thought seems to be, “Well, better them than me.”  Should I be surprised that most Americans’ first instinct when seeing a crime in progress or a person in distress in need of assistance is to pull out their phone and start recording?
Americans would do well to rememeber that they have the ability to say “no.”  They need to get far more comfortable telling mobs to go fuck themselves.  And also, never underestimate the persuasive power of a broken jaw.

N.P.: “Why Don’t We Do It In The Road” – Lowell Fulson