xcleroy

I think I was supposed to blog in an epic manner today, but I'm going to have to truncate the hell out of it so that I might act on a rare flash of motivation to not procrastinate on every aspect of my life.

The stuff I wanted to babble on about when I finally had the gumption to do so was...um... let's see...

Jet blast. My job sometimes requires me to take a jet blast to the face. Took it in the face like a porn star...

Yesterday was of note because it was hot! Like retarded hot! I was seriously wondering if it was okay to be standing in it! It burned! Usually, if you stand where the plane blocks you from the blast, it's bearable. Not yesterday. It was everywhere and searing. Ablaze! Like ridiculously hotter than ever before! I didn't think I was gonna die or anything, but I was pretty sure I was going to (insert {whatever comes before dying} here.)

And wherever it is that I am, there is a place I can go, that everyone here can go, and it's my favorite place because it is (was) comfortably air conditioned and it's full of guitars. Yeah, some ass-hat jacked them all up. Broken strings everywhere. Fourteen damn guitars, none playable. It's frustrating because I just went earlier in the week and replaced the strings on my favorite two. Went yesterday, same strings broken again. There is some serial g-string breaker who runs around serially breaking g-strings. There are no more g-strings to replace the brokens with. That room is one of my only joys in this place, and people are ruining it with their face and stupidity.

Yeah, that's it for now. I can feel that motivation thing waning...