Reaching out to the dead. This is a perfect night for listening to the rain. There is nothing worth watching on television, which is sometimes my refuge from reality, so I … Continue reading Waiting for a sign from the unknown

Reaching out to the dead. This is a perfect night for listening to the rain. There is nothing worth watching on television, which is sometimes my refuge from reality, so I … Continue reading Waiting for a sign from the unknown
S. smoked grass for fifty years, beginning as a roadie with the Bob Seger band and ending in the living room with her old man — that’d be me.
Thanksgiving at my house had a couple of surprise guests. I was delighted to see my oldest brother because he has been dead for decades.
I am in a house of madness with a screaming madman who deludes himself he is the Cat God. He’s no more the Cat God than I’m the Queen of Sheba.