and isnt it amazing what turns out of keeping all lifes curves straight, narrowed, an exclusive. and its never the easiest mile, in our own laces, its ever into, & never away from the fray, the bedlam, the malestorm, CMFT says someone left us too long in. which is true if you're being perfect honest about it, which he was, God bless him a beer, bbq, an a bj. anyway..malestorm, yes. or simply, difficulties, of you just wanna spell it outright, let creative muscle atrophy. (writers flex in mirrors mentally) some of us, you know who you are, keeping your change my life in betcha by golly I will blinkers on for periods longer than a Monday after properly planned memorial weekends, which, not to digress, but thats exactly what I do. one track digressions thats my brain. single minded schizoid set to text. hangovers after that weekend are mandatory in all the continental states, Alaska, and Hawaii, that is ifn you like titties, and beer, loud rock and roll, an you stand on your own two godfearing feet for the goddamn anthem. cuz if you ain't proud to be an American, than at least I know you're queer.. (no brakes today, Shawn? ugh, no evidently not sir, why did you stop me?) don't even matter which sissified beer you wobble into work reeking of, longs your bleary eyed, and a bit more portly. and for what exactly. is the same difference?! for Pete's, p.e.t.a's and pitys sake? doesn't matter, that's a rhetorical question, its what smart people ask sometimes. that's why it sounds so unfamiliar. ahem, if we wanted zema in the refrigerator isle its be there. that's a mute point, previously agreed upon. now, moving on. the blinker still on, Mr afraid of commitment, miss might be changing employers, an you too all about to gym membership it off to pipe dreamworld that's...