dance

Bloggers speak of writer’s block. It happens, especially when you have spouses, children, mortgages, cats, dogs, ferrets, migraines, sex lives, warrants. While I do have a job, hobbies and a social life, I don’t have that other stuff, just the occasional mouse running around my apartment that I like to feed. Soon I anticipate more going on so who knows how often I’ll be in here.

But up ‘til now, of course the fuck I’ve been able to post regularly! What else have I got going on…sigh…

So you are it, friends! Until that next piece of – I mean – until that next fine, fine person comes along – who’m I kiddn’, I’m pushing the envelope, I’m old as shit, my day is done, my coins are tossed, the jig is up, well is dried, cookies fried –

— Friends, I’ve seen it all, I’ve tasted wine, and not forgotten. I’ve loved, I’ve lived I’ve laughed, I’ve danced the dance and tweaked my consciousness. I’ve felt, I’ve licked, I’ve spat, I’ve chewed, I’ve ea-ten off, of every sur-face, but now, more o-d-ious, more hi-de-ous, is I just vo-mi-ted in Word Press.