Congrats, Dad. I'm PROUD... and swallowing.
Lyric of the Day
Put your hands on the wheel
Let the golden age begin
Let the window down
Feel the moonlight on your skin
Let the desert wind
Cool your aching head
Let the weight of the world
Drift away instead
Beck, The Golden Age... opening track to the album Sea Change
***
Note the key word: LET.
Ohhhhh, I'm trying. Don't try. Just do. Just LET.
The viaje? Well, I've arrived at the beginning... A to Z now back to B.
I'd have written sooner but was fumbling with the keys. It's dark... predawn... and I've got 20+ on an apprentice janitoresque mess of rings.
I don't feel like a janitor though. I feel like a prince. The keys? To the kingdom... and bien bestowed upon this wayfaring culo.
No need for a cell. No need for a wallet. My JEFA handles the confusingly dirtier work and those are mere raindrops on a growing ocean of reasons.
Mostly I'm in boardies with a few bucks change, wax comb, and redeemable beer caps to tip the Help.
Yeah, I've got Help. Malleable Nicaraguan Help. Boats. Facilities. Equipment. Internet. A quiver. A fridge with more food than I could possibly eat. A cooler of beer I'm stopping drinking.
Ha ha ha... gotta work on that one now that I'm back in the world of potential excess. Who's gotta?
I gotta.
A simple existence suddenly complicated but ohhhhhhhh so comfortable and beyond that boundless... dreams are a dime a dozen poured from gorgeously smiling lips.
The King needs a Hero and the Princess is mine contingent upon the slaying of diminutive day to day dragons... kid stuff... a little diddy about Jack and Diane.
But tonight I can't sleep and it's a first in years so I'm just writing to let you all know that the Mog has fallen hard and if he fucks this one up he's finally got good reason for toting misery.
"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."
God, grant me the serenity...
Come on, Max, you gotta take it. It awaits amidst a mere dawn jaunt up the Giant's Foot.
I'm on it.
Love,
MAX
Lyric of the Day
Put your hands on the wheel
Let the golden age begin
Let the window down
Feel the moonlight on your skin
Let the desert wind
Cool your aching head
Let the weight of the world
Drift away instead
Beck, The Golden Age... opening track to the album Sea Change
***
Note the key word: LET.
Ohhhhh, I'm trying. Don't try. Just do. Just LET.
The viaje? Well, I've arrived at the beginning... A to Z now back to B.
I'd have written sooner but was fumbling with the keys. It's dark... predawn... and I've got 20+ on an apprentice janitoresque mess of rings.
I don't feel like a janitor though. I feel like a prince. The keys? To the kingdom... and bien bestowed upon this wayfaring culo.
No need for a cell. No need for a wallet. My JEFA handles the confusingly dirtier work and those are mere raindrops on a growing ocean of reasons.
Mostly I'm in boardies with a few bucks change, wax comb, and redeemable beer caps to tip the Help.
Yeah, I've got Help. Malleable Nicaraguan Help. Boats. Facilities. Equipment. Internet. A quiver. A fridge with more food than I could possibly eat. A cooler of beer I'm stopping drinking.
Ha ha ha... gotta work on that one now that I'm back in the world of potential excess. Who's gotta?
I gotta.
A simple existence suddenly complicated but ohhhhhhhh so comfortable and beyond that boundless... dreams are a dime a dozen poured from gorgeously smiling lips.
The King needs a Hero and the Princess is mine contingent upon the slaying of diminutive day to day dragons... kid stuff... a little diddy about Jack and Diane.
But tonight I can't sleep and it's a first in years so I'm just writing to let you all know that the Mog has fallen hard and if he fucks this one up he's finally got good reason for toting misery.
"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."
God, grant me the serenity...
Come on, Max, you gotta take it. It awaits amidst a mere dawn jaunt up the Giant's Foot.
I'm on it.
Love,
MAX