A deep, dark, very real depression now sits where my heart once was. We face terrible, very real problems now. For each man a void, but just how much should we be expected to suffer?

In my neighborhood, we are facing quite truly absurd food shortages that impact the simplest actions of everyday life. This is an issue I know I’ve addressed to some degree before and I don’t mean to harp on this matter, but life has turned into a nigh impossible fight for survival, scrounging and scrounging and still failing to dig up any deliciously decadent ice cream or French Crullers. Frankly…I’m out of tricks.

I had, for such a very long time, been a very Vanilla man…perhaps only ever splurging for Bean or French variations. However, one day something snapped inside of me…a total and complete change [...]

When I used to – [singing] “Space is the place…”

Ahem. All the way back in – [singing] “…space is the place…”

GOD DAMN IT! Alirght, already. I dig. Space is the place. It has been…for like 6 years now. Leave me alone, Sun Ra…I’m writing.

Ok…he’s gone. He visits every now and then. He can do that…magic and crazy made-up shit I can’t remember exactly. But now I’m off on a tangent before I’ve even begun. This is surely a noteworthy record and you’d duly take note of it if you were in fact still reading.

Getting back to the actual tangent. There are two completely mind-destroying songs in existence. The first is “Uncle Meat Film Excerpt Part I” from the Frank Zappa album Uncle Meat. This was one of Zappa’s film ideas gone horribly wrong and winding up completely [...]

You will say…”Boy howdy, this guy sure hates politics. I mean, I know it’s an ugly business, but what a depressing outlook.”

And then, three politically driven posts later, “Boy howdy…” – you say that a lot and your friends are tired of it – “…this guy sure writes a lot about politics for someone who hates it so much and has only a casual knowledge of the subject. Surely he could focus instead on the daffodils and the adorable sparrows that flutter above them. They are sure more pleasant.”

So lets end this thing before it begins by killing birds with stones – I will make use of more than one as my aim is off today and some of our feathered friends are not lining [...]

Today, for some reason, I had to wear a shirt. This caused great concern initially, but eventually I picked one of the many that littered the floor. I would have been squarely knocked on my ass if the wall hadn’t been directly behind me. The chosen one smelled exactly like Walnutport. But this shirt lives 2 – 3 hours away from there, has certainly not visited recently and, to the best of my recollection, has never felt the grey sun of Walnutport on its grey cotton.

Let me explain why this is important…by way of an olfactory adventure. It is the same type of alarm that causes you to ask “Why does my hand smell like my ass?!” even in mixed company.

This particular stink is the stink of your family gathered for the holidays…true heart-felt love amongst kin…but it smells…unavoidably. Pigskin [...]