Muuuuch better....
I just did the horticultural equivalent of chugging a water glass full of nice, cold, delicious Tequila Rose, which, now that I said that, I may also do, but not a whole glass at once.
Can ya tell? *lmao* Jeez.This is fun, man. I'm usually reeeeally conservative any more, when it comes to that... my favorite-est substance on God's green Earth. (Just occured to me... if the Earth IS green... it's probably from some kind of nasty infection, the way we do things to it... *snerk*) Anyway... I've cut back my "usage" so much from what it used to be. I think I've smoked a least a coupla square miles of Columbia- the country, not the studio, to quote Micky Dolenz.
I used to easily go thru an oh zee a week.
Easily. Now days, it almost silly, it's so little by comparison.
I rarely ever roll it, either. But, I just did and, thank God, it worked.
Really, really well, too.
*grin* Before that, though, I was reading some damned thing on here, about that moron, Sammy Freakin' Hagar, almost coming to blows with Offical Guitar God, Eddie "Christ, he's GORGEOUS" Van Halen. I hate Hagar anyway, but if this is true, he is an even bigger asshole than I even imagined possible. Van Halen ceased to exist for me, except for previous albums, when Diamond Dave left.
He's a ham, sure, but, God forgive me, I love the guy.
Without him, Van Halen was just... wrong. But... Eddie?
whew
*fanning self rapidly* And, I couldn't even, ever so naturally, hate his wife, either.
I love Valerie.
Have ever since "One Day at a Time". I swear to God, those two looked like twins. I love that they named their kid "Wofie", too.
I know it's really Wolfgang and once, I even knew why, but I forget.
(Shit man... what's my OWN name?) Anyway, to recap... Sammy Hagar is an idiot.
Sammy Hagar is now an even bigger idiot.
End of story. In other news...
I wanna go outside, damn it. It's already July and if I don't get out there soon, it's gonna be freakin' February again and colder'n a polar bear's balls again. It can't decide if it wants to go on and rain or not.
Guess my telling it to piss off last night worked.
*blows on, then buffs fingernails on shirt* I can see it out there, being all indecisive and shit.
But, I know, if I go out there, especially without that hot-assed 200 lb. duster, when I get as far from the house as possible, it'll rain.
Hard. Even moreso if I'm not on a horse.
On foot, I'd probably get drowned before I could get back. These things I know. I've been through it before... (said veeery dryly, no pun intended.) Hah.
I think I just heard a tiny, distant rumble of thunder. Or else, this farm's answer to Evel Knevel just ran over something.
Again. Been through that before, too.
*rolls eyes* Ah, fuck it.
I'm goin' for it. What's the worst that could happen and DON'T ANSWER THAT!!!!
I don't wanna know. Given that I'd be involved, it defies the imagination anyway. For some reason, my brain can't let go of the idea of taking my dopey dog, April, with me.
Suppose I oughta, then. Kinda like a pistol and what Cap'n Call says: Better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it. Although, what on EARTH I could possibly "need" April for is beyond me.
I mean it's April, not Lassie, for shit's sake.
Most April's likely to do if I get into any kinda trouble is sit there and watch.
Then, eventually run off, gallavanting. Dipshit dog. Still, she's my hairball baby and I'd kill for her. Yeah.
Lem'me go let her hairy ass in here, so she can go with me.
This oughta be an adventure. If I don't come back soon... don't look to Eric for any help.
That knot head STILL doesn't know my SS number. *lmao*
See ya!
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