Tuesday, April 7, 2015

Dying young and dreaming

I don't like mornings when I wake up to a bunch of messages before I write or have coffee. I end up feeling frazzled and annoyed. I should take responsibility and acknowledge that I should ignore all my notifications, but it's a lot easier to blame you. I'm American, that's what we do.

Also, I am doing a seminar in Panama City Beach on comedy, humour, and health in a couple of weeks. I'll get more details and pass them along if you should be in the neighborhood. Irony: I got booked for it the day of TGB's surgery.

The guy who played the cop Roscoe P. Coletrain on Dukes of Hazzard died. I saw him in other things, but he was always Roscoe P. Coletrain.

Seriously, too many messages this morning fucked up my brain and I am empty. Normally I can vomit something out of a keyboard that is at least mildy amusing to me first thing in the morning.
The opposite side of my ocean view at my desk
The smell of Zippos remind me of my dad (pictured above visiting me in Cleveland). I think tonight I am going to make her watch Rebel with me.

Don't even read this. This was just wasted space.