Has Hell frozen over? Is this the musical question? “It was 26 degrees in El Paso last night,” one client reported. It was below freezing here, according to what I saw. And then, there are the planets, too: Mercury and Mars, as duly noted, in disarray.
The weather (and its source):
I had to call back for verification, “You did say that you were making a birthday cake from scratch, right?”
It wasn’t a cake for me, but that one Gemini is hooked with a Sagittarius (same birthday as mine), and she was baking. From scratch. Scary. Very scary. Then, when I realized we had a freezing band of weather, as some would suggest, hell has frozen over, or parts of Texas anyway, it’s pretty clear: her, in the kitchen, being domestic.
Obviously, I isolated the cause of the cold weather.
Tips for start-ups:
Nice to read Evan again.
No heading:
Stupid Men Tricks?
Search engines:
The latests and greatest?
Not sure it’ll work:
But if it does? Just sort of reaffirms why Austin is a great town. Still.
This just in:
The Inter-web thing is a good place to find stuff. Stuff that matters. One of the best post-modern prologues, ever, the introduction to Trainspotting (MPAA: R for graphic heroin use and resulting depravity, strong language, sex, nudity and some violence), and I have no idea why it was running through my head. I’ve only seen the film once.
RENTON (voice-over)
Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family, Choose a fucking big television, Choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players, and electrical tin openers.Choose good health, low cholesterol and dental insurance. Choose fixed-interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends.
Choose leisure wear and matching luggage. Choose a three piece suite on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who you are on a Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing sprit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pishing you last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked-up brats you have spawned to replace yourself. Choose your future. Choose life.
But who would I want to do a thing like that?
I chose not to choose life: I chose something else. And the reasons? There are no reasons. Who need reasons when you’ve got heroin?
(I have no earthly idea why I was looking for that, other than to remind myself to go and rent that film some time – maybe.)
Picture time:
Found just outside The Texas School for the Deaf, alas, my poor camera skills means that the backlight – what caught my eyes – doesn’t really show up.
