Tired; long day. To those that don't understand my vitriol, I'm sorry we are not on the same page. I spend my days sequestering myself away from you, trying to focus on progress...as ennui and torpor pour over my soul like syrup. Anger silently holding me, gripping me in it's mournful embrace. Forcing me to face my absence from this Life. Decades behind me, decades staring me down. Silently judging me at my lack of action..the World is before me, resplendent, her legs spread...and countless Gods stare silently down, judging...I am not a bad man...only one with low impulse control. Just like you, I was born into this: no map, blind and searching for TRUTH. For happiness that is always slightly out of reach. I will never be happy, for life and death have painted a vivid picture of terror and loss that haunts my waking moments. A pebble dropped into a pond brings on hyper-lysergic realizations of inevitability, availability, inconsistency and chance's serendipitous jealousness of Eternity.

Shout OUT to the outest of OUTS, which are:
Constantine Boyko
Peter L'Abbe
and Jef Hoskins....
your voices will echo thru Eternity, brothers!!
Ok...FaceBook, here we go!
The guy that ran around BART naked and was bat-shit crazy..
FUCK HIM. Lock that dumb cunt up and throw away the key.
Fucking weirdo burning Man faggot.
So I was thinkin' aout the gum stuck under bars, the gum spat onto sidewalks..ejaculated out of a human mouth. And we live here, and love here..surrounded by verticality and horizontal FUCK YOU. Laugh, love and work you fucking ANTS. How I love seeing your antennaes tremble as you discover the next PHOTO OP..I mean, you are SO FUCKING IMPORTANT..Let's cut to the chase: YOU aRE ALL SCHEDULED FOR EVICTION, from these mortal premises. Ok, hang on, I might need another shot/beer...

Drinking Absinthe and lissening to AFI (Let It Be Broke) ...
This changes all that I thought before. I've drank poison, and accepted it's advice. Oh, I guess it's MONDAY and the people that are not independently wealthy are actually working. So, I woke up in a hood, and the first rock was thrown.

The sound of your derailleurs clicking thru gears is the sound of you clicking thru yr social cliques...trying to find your home, even though you are forever homeless. Having fun in the sun is your modus operandi, but you are hopelessly outmoded. Have some brains: sun=cancer.
Oh, I forgot that I am surrounded by a thousand finger-fucking forgets (that's my new code for queers) that need to endlessly and relentlessly posit their every fucking queef for all to see. HEY!! Can I reiterate?! WE DON'T WANT TO SEE pics of your children/dogs/dinner/breakfast..or that amazing view you gained after climbing for two hours. CALM DOWN. You are too fucking positive. Sharing is NOT caring. Bicycle people are the worst. As I lay in bed, immobilized by LIFE/depression/exhaustion..my newsfeed is being cumshotted and inundated by a hundred quasi-happy velocipedeans that racked up a thousand miles on their bike comps, and feel the need to share every pedal rev...with us...
Ok, ok...shout your accomplishments from Facebooks' rooftop...but some of us have to turn away, and let those cum-blasts hit the wall...
But, that being said, I love my bikey peeps and the miles they put towards obsolescence.
I AM YOU.
♥

@ the BaconBacon grease fire debacle: 
Kevin DeMattia What if the owners were trapped inside, and burned alive, and a horde of wild hogs came across the charred carnage and ate to their hearts' content. How IRONIC! Just kidding, calm down ya bacon lovahs...<3 span="span">

FUCK THANKSGIVING

Fuck Thanksgiving. Yeah, awesome: sit around and get fatter and drunker, eat dead animals and enjoy yr social circle jerk.
Lemmings.
Wow, and I'm not even drunk.

Ok, off to a slow start... I'm s'pose to be ranting but tonight I'm feelin' more contemplative..
So as most of you who don't live in Afghanistan know:  I just put a ring on a finger.  Felt so right. Known this gal since August of 2009.  First time I met her (at Bender's Bar) I had a Brooks saddle (leather bicycle saddle) in my back pocket. I was wearing a shirt that said: "Overworked and Underfucked." ...and we talked. I was intrigued. And the second time she came in to the bar, looked at me, and ordered a drink....I was fucking hooked. Line and sinker.  Never another that came close. Sparkling eyes, dimples, astounding wit....And for 3 years I've been adoring this amazing person, and am so happy to say that I can now call her my fiance.