Everybody be calm. Try to relax. There’s a mischievous force at work in the Universe right now and I think it is best if we all just wait out the storm before proceeding with the regular agenda. As I skip around the blogosphere and the meat world it seems like lots of my people are roughed up, stressed out, injured, overwhelmed, and frazzled. I know I’m on that list.
I think we are all trying to do too much. Too much of everything. I remember when the only place that went 24-7 was my alma mater the Village Inn
Not anymore, now everybody I know wears a dozen hats. Ambition isn’t about getting ahead anymore, it is about keeping up.
I don’t want that. I want the dock on the bay, the squandered day.
Oh. Me too. Take a day soon, Juancho. The world will not come to an end. And maybe have a piece of pie.
you need me to build a dock? I’ll get right on it.
I have to finish digging the ditch before the rainstorm. Yes, that’s code, but it’s also literal; damn! the rain started.
I’m reading about the the kidnapping of kids in Texas by mostly the Comanches, and how most of the kids became “white Indians.” Maybe they thought their white life was a drag, and playing indians was a lot more fun? Riding, hunting, playing games? Hell, who wouldn’t gladly give up a Big Mac for raw horsemeat to have that life?
By all means, bring on the horsemeat.
So this cowboy and indian fetish comes honestly…