Remarkably unproductive day.  At least that’s what it felt like.  Still managed to be exhausted at the end of it.

N.P.: “So This Is the Famous Suicide Squad” – John Murphy

I can’t use the heat as an excuse for not writing today, Dear Reader…I was just too busy with life and stuff.  And these existential crises/tsunamis aren’t helping anything.
Jose and the Army of Gardeners sprayed fertilizer all over the grounds today.  Thus, The Shed smelled vaguely like a garden shop/nursery all day.  At one point I stepped outside and was shocked by the legion of flies that had suddenly descended to have sex with the grass.  Lawn coitus.  It was grotesque.

N.P.: “Purple Haze” – The Cure

Heat Strike: Day 5: 105°F
I really hate summer days in this fetid desert.

N.P.: “Come On Come On” – Nashville Pussy

Heat Strike: Day 4: 113°F

But totally off the record here, dear reader, why the fuck did I just pay $4.25/gallon for gas?  Gas!  Not whiskey, not liquid valium…just shitty-ass gas.  I ask, you’ll remember, as someone who hasn’t watched the news since January.  …The hell’s going on?

And not off the record but directed solely at like-minded registered voters of the Dismal State of California: I will be voting for Kevin Kiley in the recall election.  I approve of his message.

N.P.: “Resignation” – Paul Cauthen

Heat Strike: Day 3: 115°F

N.P.: “Rockin’ Is Ma Business” – The Four Horsemen

Heat Strike: Day 1: 113°F

N.P.: “That’s When I Reach for My Revolver” – Moby

Got to hang out with some U.S. Navy Submariners today.  Fascinating.

N.P.: “It’s Bad You Know” – R.L. Burnside

It happened again, dear reader: I was just being the hell of a guy that I am on Sunday, and then all of a sudden, it’s Tuesday.  I assume there was a Monday in there, I just don’t have any recollection of it.  I don’t think a lot of sleep was involved because I am completely exhausted tonight.

N.P.: “Route 66 (2006 Remaster)” – Depeche Mode

It’s Shark Week…that makes things a bit more tolerable.

N.P.: “Homicide” – 999

Happy Independence Day, free-thinking, censorship-loathing American reader.

N.P.: “Sploosh!” – Ozric Tentacles