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I should be digging through the unorganised stacks of CDs, putting together tomorrow's reggae & rocksteady extravaganza... ...but I'm not. Stripped down to an aged pair of German army moleskin shorts, with the fan blowing on my back, typing is as much effort as I care to manage, before the plunge to slumberland. OK, I did spend most of the evening listening to scratchy, vintage Hawaiian steel guitar music... after show #1, that will be show #2. Marathon radio day. Damn, I still want a ukulele... though the mother-of-toilet-seat steel still sleeps in its delaminating case. Far cry from the politico-power-chord past. But it reminds me of something i was thinking on my way in the dark,last night. What would your reply be, if someone were to ask you, "what do you want to do, more than anything else?" Time is slipping by for me at such an alarming pace, that I need to seriously consider this one. The crushing weight of total boredom and dissatisfaction with things in general is squeezing out this heavy little quiz-ification. Best ponder this a bit, while I'm being mesmerised by the waves, next week. Time to shit, or get off the pot. At least, the camera made its way out of imprisonment. Maybe we're both in need of a major jailbreak. Please forgive the cute kitty photo, but it was just this hot today:
The juice stayed on, all day... unlike the experience of many others. Shades of 1965. I remember that one. They made a movie about it. I don't think there'll be one about my half-nekkid ass. |
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