Hey all,
I hope this finds you well and good and enjoying the autumn weather.
So have you ever had a cool nickname? My friends tend to call me just by the first letter of my first name, which is fine. But its not a cool nickname.
I have known guys called called Noodle, Tubby Bitch, Samurai Bob, T-Bone, Frodo, and Taco John. I have known gals called Spike, Kat, Scruffy, Dizzy, Lil' Mo, and Little China.
Me? Not a cool nickname.
One night me and my old girlfriend had an extremely heavy trip in New Orleans. We started having fun by pretending to be Batman and Catwoman. We cased the local bars, looking for people who might be the Joker, or Two Face, or the Penguin.
We met some of her friend and she introduced me as Batman. And for like, two months, until the end of that semester, there was this tiny group of people calling me Batman when they saw me. Which is a cool nickname, as long as you don't give it to yourself.
Got a cool nickname? Cherish it.
So my life - still in Salem, still looking for a day job. Just turned in my first draft of a short story for a company I haven't written a word for in almost ten years. That's a trip.
Its Halloween in Salem and that's fucking mad. The whole town goes all out, beginning in September and ending I don't exactly know when as its my first year. But its a riot. The Halloween Parade featured a group called something like the East Salem Zombie Lawn Chair Drill Team. And that's exactly what they were, with a coordinated drill and everything. Halloween silliness bliss.
Okay, that's all for today.
be well,
ph
Taoist Thought of the Day: I want you to actually try this. Imagine your consciousness as a set of dials and switches. You have a dial that controls your happiness, one for your energy level. I have one for Sexiness and one for Compassion. Make a dial in your mind for any aspect of the Self you want to control. The next time you need a boost in any area, go ahead and visualize that dial and give it a turn.
Pet Report: Bacchus is still sick, and still isn't going to get better. Every time I think I'm cried out, that I've had my final freak out I find a new level. Its bad. He is so sick, and so skinny and weak. But he also more or less wants to be left alone, so you can't just sit there and pet him for more than a minute or two. Do it, and he will summon all of his energy in a heartbreaking display of determination, stand up, walk a few feet away, and lay back down. That's my dog - he always wants to be in the room with you, but he really enjoys his personal space. To the end. So we do all we can for him, and we live our lives, and we wait. Vindaloo the Cat understands what's going on and has been extra sweet.
Currently Digging: At Blakey and the Jazz Messengers, my bad ass dual mustard potato salad, joy in the face of the absurdities of existence.