What's Another Word for Pirate Treasure?
Tuesday is soccer night. Last week in a moment of drunken weakness, I said I'd play with another team tonight if they needed me. Well, they need me and it just so happens that their game is right before my own team's game. So back-to-backers. I give it about 15 minutes into the second game before my lungs revolt and go all code red on me.
Surfer Boy's Dad will be in town for the next 10 days or so. They're talking like they're going to install an exterior door that will one day lead to our yet-to-be-purchased hot tub, and while I know they're both ridiculously handy and carpenterriffic, I just think there's going to be too much else going on for them to finish. I'm sorry to say this is a half-empty glass type of view since the last time Papa Surfer came out, they installed a new kitchen floor so there's absolutely no cause for me to be so pessimistic. Must be one of those days.
Went to "The Lake" last weekend. I was beset with hives during the crucial pack-up-and-get-out portion of the trip (thank you therapy! it's really working...I can tell when itchy red splotches turn up all over me that I'm definitely working out my problems. It's either that or I'm allergic to my thoughts) so we left later than we wanted, but that didn't impinge on any boating, swimming, drinking or cursing, so that was good. The best part was when sweet little dog-watching cousin texted me saying "Your dogs are so well-behaved!". That's like the best compliment you can give a dog owner. Not that they're any where near trained up like they should be, but hey, Cuz says they're well-behaved and that's enough to make me stick my chest out all proud-like.
I keep thinking I haven't really put any challenging thoughts on here in a while and it's getting kinda boring. I guess I could bring up some poignant issues affecting our society (or lack thereof), but really? I can't be bothered. So instead, I leave the onus on you, the reader. Email me at cunexttuesday at gmail dot com and let me know on what salient topic you'd like me to expound. I'm a regular bastion of useless information, so no topic is out of bounds. All entries are subject to search and seizure without probable cause.
Surfer Boy's Dad will be in town for the next 10 days or so. They're talking like they're going to install an exterior door that will one day lead to our yet-to-be-purchased hot tub, and while I know they're both ridiculously handy and carpenterriffic, I just think there's going to be too much else going on for them to finish. I'm sorry to say this is a half-empty glass type of view since the last time Papa Surfer came out, they installed a new kitchen floor so there's absolutely no cause for me to be so pessimistic. Must be one of those days.
Went to "The Lake" last weekend. I was beset with hives during the crucial pack-up-and-get-out portion of the trip (thank you therapy! it's really working...I can tell when itchy red splotches turn up all over me that I'm definitely working out my problems. It's either that or I'm allergic to my thoughts) so we left later than we wanted, but that didn't impinge on any boating, swimming, drinking or cursing, so that was good. The best part was when sweet little dog-watching cousin texted me saying "Your dogs are so well-behaved!". That's like the best compliment you can give a dog owner. Not that they're any where near trained up like they should be, but hey, Cuz says they're well-behaved and that's enough to make me stick my chest out all proud-like.
I keep thinking I haven't really put any challenging thoughts on here in a while and it's getting kinda boring. I guess I could bring up some poignant issues affecting our society (or lack thereof), but really? I can't be bothered. So instead, I leave the onus on you, the reader. Email me at cunexttuesday at gmail dot com and let me know on what salient topic you'd like me to expound. I'm a regular bastion of useless information, so no topic is out of bounds. All entries are subject to search and seizure without probable cause.
Comments
Yes, I got more bounce then the fuckin' bump. And then you want to know why, because I'm motherfuckin' truckin'.
I'm in the pocket just like Grady Tate. Got supplies of beats so you don't have to wait.'Cause I'm the master blaster drinking up the shasta. My voice sounds sweet 'cause it has to. So light a match to my ass 'cause I'm blowin' up. I'd like to thank the people for just showin' up. But but now I want y'all to move it. Put your point on the floor and just prove it. And I'm smurfin' not rehearsin' gettin' live y'all. A little puffy so you know what I'm doin' right ya'll.'Cause that's the kind of frame of mind I'm in
I got this feelin' that is back again. So don't touch me 'cause I'm electric And if you touch me you'll get shocked (shocked, shocked).