I'm playin' guitars with Jonno tonight. Then Saturday we're playin' guitars at an art exhibition. I'm not sure if I know a single detail about it, but word 'round the sandscoop is that we will each be paid not in money but in something better-something far, far better. "What could be better than money?" you capitalists ask, white collars and US Mint bibs stained in the blood and sweat of the working class. Well, I'll tell you: a wooden pen. You heard it here first, folks. We've been promised a wooden pen. Each. The retail of this "Isn't That a Pencil?" artifact is roughly $400. So while you're over there scratching your boggled head, I'll be gripping the fine-barked oak of a truly remarkable stationary oddity. Sucks to be you.
I named my guitar Yu Na. Did I tell you that?
I'm doing away with childish things. Without delving into detail, I'm slowly removing time-wasters and life-suckers from my soulveins and unchaining my melody from anchors. Soon, I'll be a truly self-sufficient humanoid living off nothing but the rays of the Sun and the oxygen in the water. Writing letters to the Lord with a wooden pen.
On my way home from an early morning trip to the local grocery depot, I had an idea for something I wanted to say on this sheet of blog. Something mildly entertaining, insightful and valuable. For the life of me, I can't remember what it was. But I remember enough of the notion to know that it's no loss for you or for me, so we can once again exhale the carbon dioxide we were penting up in lungs in anticipation. Rest easy, children.
Like Mr. Feeny told Topanga, Corey and Shawn: "Do good."
FRESH POTS!!!
-LS^2
This dude lives on so many levels...
Click Dave's face for FRESH POTS!
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