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Starting to let this diary suck already, since I haven't been back since last week... eternal lack of discipline. "Unsatisfactory" marks on "Uses Time Wisely" on the report card. Damned by my teachers for all time! The Folk Marathon raked in $26K, a major feat for listener-sponsored radio! I've finally OD'ed on Dieselbilly... for now. Actually got a call and pledge from a long-haul driver during the broadcast, on the move through small-town VA. How he ever tuned in to a college station, I'll never figure. I suppose this will go down as catharsis for the rear-end flip that was dealt on us back in '96. Exit, one Isuzu Trooper... and cheat the Reaper, for now. Serious marital disharmony... has got me... on the run. Dianne and I just don't seem to be on the same page on any subject, anymore. Including the boudoir. Perhaps the pressure buildup is wrecking my judgement, but I'm finding it more and more difficult to be a mind-reader. I may not being the most verbally gifted individual, nor have an unlimited attention span... but dang! Give me some input here! I just can't deal with taking anything for granted, life-wise or relationship-wise, but If I put it to her this way, silence is the response. Or else it's World War Three. Have we worn out our welcome? I know losing her parents, five years ago, is a hard shock to recover from, but I'm down to one relative, myself. Do we not HAVE to go on? This is looking bleak.... Dead in the water at work, again. Thank God we still have internet access on weeks like this. Watch this space for animations, Gold-Membership- willing... thanks to ImageReady on the machine. Matt clued me in to a hideous site, yesterday... hairytongue.com, dedicated to making fools out of those who make fools of themselves with the grape. Not for the weak of stomach, some of the photos. Wish I'd had a camera when I was a lad, considering my mother's drinking buddies... I could curl some hair with what I've seen. "Don't do as I do, do as I say!" O' course, I coulda been planted, years ago, with a bourbon-bottle gash in my skull, and a camera in my hands. All for Art! 'Til we meet again. |
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