Made my deadline with hours to spare.  Which is rare.   But never mind that.
Reader, what the hell has happened to Americans?  They used to be like us: ballsy, unafraid.  Now…Jesus.  Make a furtive movement around a business owner, and they shit themselves, start to cry, and change the name of their company.  Individuals are afraid of their own opinions.  And they seem to have totally lost the ability to utter a simple “no,” much less muster the guts to tell large groups of people to go fuck themselves while smiling menacingly.  Where I used to see a bunch of badasses, now I just see gaggles of pusillanimous twats.  It’s depressing.  And oh god, it is getting hard to find people to eat ecstasy with as the Summer of the Woke Scolds grinds on.

N.P.: “Free Four” – Pink Floyd

Do you know what yesterday was, dear reader?  July 21.  One month since the summer solstice.  Only two months left of suckass summer!  This bullshit is just flying by.  Love it.
Anyway, I’m on a bit of a deadline, so I’ve gotta get back to it.

N.P.: “Sins of Mine (Apoptygma Berzerk Extended Version)” – Mortiis

Holy shit, dear reader…today was The Busiest Day Ever.  I wrote a little, but that was on the phone whilst travelling, so it’s going to need some editing.  Anyway, I hope you’re well.

N.P.: “Hung” – Wire

Wings, whiskey, and writing.  Not a bad way to spend a Sunday.

N.P.: “Vaterland” – Maerzfeld

Fortunately the shitty governor of this shitty state doesn’t have news conferences on Saturdays.  My liver appreciates the break.  We’ve fallen into the rather dark habit around here of playing a simply vicious drinking game called “The King’s Speech.”  The rules are dangerously simple:
1)  Anytime The Gov says cohort, incumbent, aggregated, or iteration, take a drink.
2)  Anytime the weird sign language interpreter/mime/Greek Chorus person on screen with The Gov objectively appears to be fellating some sort of large yet unseen beast, that is Death, and you have 3 minutes to finish the entire bottle.  Death happened twice this week.  Had today not been the weekend, I suspect an intervention would have been staged around here.   Kinda dreading Monday.

N.P.: “Covenant” – Lazerpunk

You know what pisses me off, dear reader?  These pieces written by idiots that are entitled things like, “15 Things You Didn’t Know About _______.”  With “_______” here being something that I am at all interested in.  Inevitably, I know all 15 things, and I am not “special,” here…anybody who is at all “into” whatever is being discussed knows these 15 things plus a lot more.  And more often than not, I find numerous errors in their “reporting.”  Lately, I’ve done a little digging into the cretins writing this nonsense, and inevitably, they are in their early 20s and apparently still under the impression that culture and history started the day they were born, and now when they “discover” something that was around before they were born, they weirdly assume that nobody else has ever even heard of whatever they just “discovered” and feel that they are now, somehow, “experts” on the matter.  If they were to use accurate titles, these would all be called, “15 Things My Ignorant Ass Found Out When I Googled This Movie/Book/Band/Whatever Because I Couldn’t Figure It Out From Just Watching/Reading/Listening to It.”  Or something similar.  Like so many things, I get the impression that this shit doesn’t bother anybody else the way it does me.  But I don’t really care.  Because it needs to be said: “Goddammit, child…I was an expert at this before you were an itch in your daddy’s pants.”
Now get off my fuckin’ lawn.

N.P.: “Shambala” – Beastie Boys

When people react to some trivial event by suddenly standing up and shouting, “That’s what I’m talking about,” I tend to want to punch them in the mouth.  Then I could say, “Well that’s what I’m talking about,” which would be kind of funny.  But I wouldn’t want to sink to their rhetorical level.

N.P.: “Say Mas” – Processor

I’ve been getting a lot of words down, dear reader.  The writing’s going well.
Thought I was going to get a chance to try out the new switchblade today, but it turned out to be a false alarm.  Alas.
I think the next four days are going to be good…atmospheric ridiculousness aside.

N.P.: “Rocket Scientist (feat. Eve)” – Teddybears

Today was absolutely ludicrous, dear reader.  Had an assignment dropped on me mid-morning and had to do 2 weeks of work in 4 hours.  Which, of course, I did.  But I think I’m spent for the day.  I’ll rest my eyes a bit and write tonight.

N.P.: “Cavalry in Thousands” – Tengger Cavalry

Screaming passengers continue to be a problem.  It’s been a recurring issue for the last 5 years whenever I’ve had passengers while I’m driving, which is, thankfully, rare.
I understand that riding with me can be an…intense experience.  But only for those who lack faith in my superior driving skills.  I am a professional, you know.  I’m also a bit of a fatalist when it comes to other people, so though I have no idea of the myriad choices you have been making your entire life, those choices have somehow led you to be sitting in my passenger’s seat while I’m going ridiculous speeds.
The screaming is a problem because I tend to be several steps ahead of any passengers, so when I’m looking over my left shoulder quickly to see if the lane is clear, it’s probably to avoid the thing that my passenger is only now about to notice.  But when she screams, it interferes with some pretty complicated math and physics that’s going on in real time at about 90 mph, when is not a good time to interfere with things.  Luckily for all parties concerned, I long ago learned to ignore the screams of passengers (keeping the stereo at inordinate volumes helps).  I forgive them, for they know not what they do.  I don’t even lecture or yell until we safely get to where we’re going, and then I gently point out that we have arrived safely and without actual incident and was all that screaming and bullshit back there really necessary.  Which is a perfectly reasonable question, I think.

N.P.: “Homeless in Heathrow” – Fartbarf