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
The perfect joint
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.
A post about nothing (kind of like a ‘Seinfeld’ episode)
Blogging is a self-publishing ego trip, of course, and self-publishing is often looked down upon, even scorned by many.
Not a breath of air
The days of Miami Vice and Sonny Crockett when the humidity was high and so was I, so were we both.