Category: the one with the chicks

Girls, girls, girls

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I really thought this was going to be a Pon Farr kind of year (ideally without the treachery). It started out with such promise. I still blame Mötley Crüe for starting all the shit dominoes that fell, screwing with the time line.

and I ain’t got nobody
I got some no money ’cause I just got paid fucking sent home again, until Thursday
Now, how I wish I had someone to talk to
I’m in an awful way,

But I have beer (no, not with Ray – we know how that ends) and Star Wars reruns, so I’ve got that going for me, which is good. And Tinder, which is unlikely to end well. And ham salad. And that’s all I need.  Except this


My source of wisdom.
My source of wisdom.

So, the Hells Angels had a booth at the Cruise on Central yesterday, selling swag. They also had a goodwill ambassador who was kind enough to chat will me for a minute. It was time well spent (on my part, anyway). Not only did she share the love of muscle cars, she took the time to throw out some life advice:

don’t envy anyone else’s life – live yours.

Thanks for the reminder, my friend.

the spontaneous beer free (so far) August has been great, but not without its issues. Coors N/A is like quitting smoking, in terms of its you ate too much cheese and no fiber effect. Then there’s the dreams. Last night’s triple feature”

  • sharks in Michigan. Yes, stupidly taunting them was involved. Fortunately, there was a scene change before things went all sharkquake vs. Megadethsharknadocalypse.
  • Never even breath on a classic car in an unlikely impromptu car show at a small Gothic church in Chicago. One of them will roll away. The guy you ride with to chase it down is actually some sort of mobster. He would rather sink his car in the lake with you in it than let you live. Not fun.
  • But you escape and go home – only to discover uncollected mail for someone in a former life is not stacking up at my house. and so are unaccounted for dishes. And wait@ WTF are these keys doing here? That life is long gone and over, but in the day, she never went anywhere without her keys.  Apprehensive search of the house ensues. The cupboards are clear. But not the third bedroom. We’re now living in Goldilocks land.


– Me, after doing the due diligence a little late.

Evidently, I don’t get to both express myself freely and do so without risking some sort of “your self-deprecating jokes are hurtful to me” response, even though there’s no names and no point about anyone else. There’s gotta be a Costanza for this moment of Zen.

George Costanza Fail

Nah, too meta.

Not just in this song ^^, but in the real world too.

Better than “wife.” Better than “I haven’t looked at the issue, but I sure wish Arizona recognized common law marriage.” [Ed.: it doesn’t, and if it had, you didn’t qualify anyway.] Because “girlfriend” means no commitments or promises you did not explicitly undertake. And no 64-day waiting period, when the irreversible happens it’s time to make a change.

Better than “friends” on the internet. Because “girlfriend” means you have presumably met IRL at least once.

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