Sunday, November 30, 2003

I have returned, though, perhaps only partially. The molecules in my brain have been rearranging and there is really no telling in what stage I reside. I have been reading Khalil Gibran's The Prophet, and Nikos Kazantzakis' Zorba the Greek. (Coincidentally, both these authors were born in 1893.) Many synchronistic events have been occurring lately. I am exploring new worlds. I have a new lover whose name is Liz. She's a lioness with burgundy hair and a solar-green eyes: a 26-yr-old dee jay and masseuse. There's more, of course, to be revealed in time. Our relationship is cautiously unfolding... a winter-time slow-dance. I also have a new band, or three. The first, and most mind-expansive, with Jason Traeger which could be described as an instrumental metal-band. We call ourselves the Smith Group. The second is just me with drummer Chad Austinson. We are subtle and solid and do more country stuff. The third is with Jonah Carpenter and Shawn Parke and is hip hop. We have yet to practice. This is the band that will perform songs from A Year in the Life of... Slippery Goodstuff.

Speaking of Slippery, the orders continue to arrive almost daily and the responses continue to be positive. One female listener thought I got soft towards the end and asked for more "bitches and hos" and "nasty" stuff. I'm open-minded, but underfunded. Doing the "bitch/ho" thing doesn't come off too naturally as of yet, though, so patience, patience my delirious hardcore audience. Be pleased with what I have mustered. Random question: Have you ever heard of "man mustard"? It's a phrase my poker pals use regularly.

By the way, I'm trying very hard to end my gambling addiction. It has brought me a sad harvest this year. Of all addictions I should be saddled with... poker!? It could be worse, true.

I spent Thanksgiving in Oregon with my cousin Kirby and his wife, Megan. Megan made the best meal ever. They just bought a fine house on a hill overlooking Corvallis. We watched many movies and some basketball. The drive back to Oly was treacherous and I repeated the "Hail Mary" again and again as I hydroplaned left and right to the rhythm of squeaky windshield wipers. The driver's-side window is still broken and so the car acts as a mini shower-stall in heavy rains. (Note to mom: I'm exaggerating a little so don't worry. I am dedicated to living a long, vigorous life.)

p.s. Being in this computer lab for so long has me ready to defenestrate the otiose digerati. I feel like they and I are antipodes. But then I’d have to pick up the pellucid cullet which I don’t really have time for. Rather I will take care of my borborygmus and leave. Sorry to embrangle you with these new words I’ve been learning.

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