Wonderful World

I've been following the trail of bread crumbs that my former self left in order for me to find the main theme that I was writing about in the Santa Cruz homeless epic romance novel I've been writing for 13 years. Somewhere carved on a tree in California I had a perfectly mapped out synopsis that was irrefutable and original and authentic and was guaranteed to win me accolade and financial freedom and I think I wrote some of it down by we have been feeling the lash of the whip on our heat stroked backs and have returned to the 60+ hour work week. That's Texan-speak for "An Easy Week" When you reach 80+ hours then you can say you worked overtime. I figured out that I'm off the clock for only 9 hours a day. Keep filling up those 25 gallon tanks so you don't have to bicycle to buy your spicy fried original recipe chicken you repulsively fat fucks! I'm going to fill the wallets of every street hooker in town with your frivolous oil waste.

I spent Thanksgiving watching "Gone With The Wind" in Spanish. There is no Spanish equivalent to a southern accent so it was kind of lame.

Enough about me. I'm buying an acoustic piano to install in my van next to the wood stove so I can play Lionel Richie melodies as I'm driving. I'm also quitting the solar panel assembly job to pick lettuce because I haven't been self destructive in a while and I'm tired of people trying to pat themselves on the back because they think I'm a success. You common-minded simpletons. Have you cracked a book in your life that might shine some rays into your regionally shaped brain? Traditions like rooting for the Red Sox and eating slices of pizza are the opium that poor people sooth their loneliness with like rosaries broken in a dusty chapel. My arm is too fucked up to pat myself on the back and even if I could I would recognize the terminal illness of society as it lumbers toward delusions of grandeur.

That turtle I rescued. The video of its release was taken by the police as evidence.

I haven't eaten today and they are going to kick me out of the library soon so I have to wrap this up. Listen, I'm decaying faster than a banana peel tossed on a Nascar track and I estimate more people die in car crashes in the Eagleford shale area than die in Afghanistan so I'm trying to make every daydream count. The world is merciless and unforgiving to little animals. We make a buck and then spend it to repair the scar tissue that was maimed by making the buck. But there is a chance that this madness will lead to an energy neutral society. Yes, foraging and gathering was also energy neutral and left much less time for crystal meth and human trafficking but it also guaranteed an early death. Now you can grow old and grey in a comfortable chair with tea and a man playing Louis Armstrong songs in a "Freely/Rubato" tempo.

REDACTED PICTURE Jose tries to teach me electrical theories but I'm a stubborn pinche gringo who knows it all.

Actually, Jose turned me on to the king of classic Mexican Ranchera music. Jose Alfredo Jimenez. I want to play this at the old age home but they would kick me out. So I intend to go to Mexico to play on the street and sing of my broken heart to people who invented broken hearts. It's a wonderful world. Happy Pearl Harbor Day!