This is my good buddy, Lucas. When he is adopted my eyes shall become misty. Love can do that to you. So can beauty. There you have it, I love the little guy. My apologies for the lapse in my posting, Not much to say and working, writing, whatever, on the iPad just pisses me off. Yet we go on. The lack of words is part melancholy in being in the house where I thought . . . . Never mind. I was looking back in regret. My bad. Folks remind me to look forward, to be positive, to step into line with the soldiers of optimism, marching smack into a better world, but I know, in my heart, that time is flexible, time is recursive, time is sometimes irrelevant, so I scratch my head, seeking to appear wise, or maybe just doing my impression of a Three Stooges moment, and either way a brighter day will come my way, no matter what people say. Boy howdy, my finances ain’t looking too good neither, so I amuse myself by writing a long David Foster Wallace inspired sentence as I await the inevitable maturation of kittens. Kittens, love, and beauty; those and an Oxford comma go a long way, forward into the fog, I smile at Goddess knows what, and tell myself, once, that it’s all good, because if I say that more than once I just get pissed off.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.