loath for the ungrateful dawn. The days come by quickly and progress made is forgotten daily, the only true measure of movement towards the decimated goal is charted by biweekly posts when the large part of my day is consumed by the very tool I have yet to master before me. Speaking of tools, I replaced the water heater today and like other projects in my rear view mirror it will be revisited at least one more time until the grease pencil can scribe a line on my expanding list. I may have secured a position pawning coffee to the masses in an ever moving home location, the need exists perpetually further from my domicile. I need a steady stream of scalding joe to keep moving or the tremors keep my fingers dancing on the keys like my quivering lips in a standard rabid phone call. I picked up some groceries on the list in an effort to get one more monkey off my back and walked in on the doomed tuesday. Periodicals are my weakness. I browsed the ones I could not take and bought the one I could not leave like a six year old it the pound, not looking for the one I would take home, but the ones that would surely be killed upon my departure. Hot Rod, put out a rag worthy of someone elses disposable income. I sweated out my labor of love for hot water (try it Europe it's the bees knees) and dwelled in every word on the slick pages of my mag. David Frieburger is back in a seat that I have maybe seen in my slightly dishonest peek in the den of iniquity that is the Pedersen Publishing Offices, the fourth floor (didn't realize their were so many mags in that house) can now rest assured that some form of rhetoric that I can latch onto is still in place. Pavlov's theory was proven again this side of Russia as I almost literally poured over every page of loveliness. More so than anything Larry Flint has minted in his lifetime, the sickness has taken over for tonight, so in my Ambien en dosed state I feel the need to share my opinion that does not effect anyone with as many people who don't care as possible, hence the inebriation. As soon as the green butterfly comes we can all rest assured that the gray matter will slowly switch over to something that does..well.. matter. It's the double sided sword of logic and reason in the standard epic battle that fights in every man I believe, the duality gene. The reason the brain is split in two quite literally because the ensuing battle royal that would be it's end anyhow. That thin membrane that separates us from the part we would like to kill is the sanity that we endure. I don't have any new pictures to post tonight as my camera is a full 5 feet away from me, but I will elaborate without evidence that Mcbro and I look quite alike to his hairstylist and I am the proud owner of the best cop hair cut 12 dollars can buy from someone who speaks a tad more Mandarin than English, could have been Cantonese, I couldn't hear over the straight razor on my scalp. It looks great seriously, I couldn't get a ticket with this do. Thanks to all and I hope you all did something special on Easter.