Monthly Archives: April 2004

He Supports His Own, Too

Ok. That was damned cool.

Tuesday, I got a tip from a friend of mine that a very special show was going to happen in town tonight. As I heard the details and as I researched more details online, I became more intrigued and I had to go. No choice in the matter.

On the heals of last night’s stellar performance (as I’ve heard) at the Back Yard amphitheater, members of David Bowie’s backup band, formally known as a band called Spooky Ghost, were to play at the Continental Club on South Congress. It was rumored and speculated that Bowie himself would be there and make a stage appearance. Now you see why I had to go. I knew it was possible that he’d be there, considering the next Reality Tour date is for tomorrow night in Houston, but I didn’t know if he’d be performing or if he’d be on the side watching his bandmates have their own spotlights. Whatever was in the plans for the evening, I knew it was going to be super cool and high in quality.

I left the apartment at 7:45 and headed downtown. Got there around 8pm, got stamped, stood inside the club for a few minutes to hear the first warmup “soundcheck” band, which was pretty good for a local two-piece band. I stepped outside to grab some snacks from somewhere. Came back to go ahead and stand in line, since they were going to kick everyone out at 8:30 to reset the place and charge cover. I got in line in a good, good spot, like 10 people back from the front. Nice. Before they let us in around 9:15, I managed to get drawn into a small discussion of the show last night with some people who were standing behind me. Cool how that stuff happens. The line got to moving, I paid my $10 cover, got my stamp, bought a drink, and zoom I found a spot right at the stage, 2 feet back from front. Again, niiiice.

I looked around as I stood there just to get a lay of the scene. I had heard, from some guys who were in line ahead of me, that Bowie definitely was there in attendance, so I had to see. Sure enough, I saw. He was kicked back on a tall chair, one leg bent up in front of him, as he was chatting to the girl to his left and watching the first act get ready to play. So, yes, ladies and gentlemen, I, Shawn, have seen David Bowie in a crowded, smoky, low-lit bar in the middle of Austin, Texas, at a distance of 20 feet. Take THAT!

The first act was a solo performance by Bowie’s bassist and backup vocalist Gail Ann Dorsey. She was there belting out some smoky vocals over her acoustic set and doing a pretty bang-up job at it. Not bad at all. Did about 5 songs, mostly jazzy in style. For her fourth song, she enlisted the help of keyboardist Mike Garson, a totally incredible jazz-piano badass, to play for her as she sung. That was very cool, especially during his solo. A great duet, those two.

So, after her performance, she made way for Spooky Ghost, well, more like a one-man show by an Irish fellow named Gerry Leonard. He played solo electric guitar, a tough feat made tougher by the semicircle of pedals, effects boxes, and cables at his feet. This man was good. Damn good. His skill and style is loud, blustery, but layered thick by live digital delays and loops. Amazing, laying all those loops and tracks live, his feet going from pedal to pedal while he’s still playing, laying down part after part for his vocal interludes. He brought Garson back onstage for another number, inspired by the monotonic dirge music of India – mindblowing. During the song, they shared solos and sort of challenged each other, Garson just going crazy all over the piano and the audience shouting. That was so fun.

And, if that wasn’t enough, they introduced and brought to the stage rock legend Earl Slick for a few numbers as a trio, mostly blues and loud rock. It was so fun watching these three masters just stand around and have a good jam session, playing off of each other like consumate musicians, throwing stuff into the mix just to see how the others would react. That was the fun part. They finished off the show after 2 more songs and thanked us as they left the stage to our shouts of “one more!” Leonard and Slick came back to play another song, a balls-out blues number, just two guys and their guitars getting raw. That’s where it’s at, man.

Overall, it was a good, good thing. The show was fantastic, even if Bowie stayed out of the limelight. It’s good, and impressive, to know that big-named musicians and artists support each other in that fashion. The music was great, the band was loose, the audience was supportive, and the vibe was pretty fun. I had a damned good time. It was totally serendipitous that I was brought to this point, and I am happy. Here’s to more serendipity.

Ever Seen Cats Box?

Hey kids. Total site redesign. All of the main, publicly-accessible pages have been updated and recoded to unify the look and feel of the site. Still not much content here, but that’s how we work. We. Heh. It’s just me, and I still speak in the Royal First Person form.

Anyways, enjoy the new design. It’s mostly monochrome now, grey tones with a touch of “titty-pink” for emphasis. Hope you like. The change goes all the way from the main page to the journal pages, the povray page, and down to the message gateway.

The development on Chrontium has kind of ground to a halt. Shame on me for not developing it fast enough; I sort of lost interest in the project, but I do want to finish due to the positive and demanding responses I’ve been getting from my play testers. Stay tuned, and please ride on me to finish. Thanks.

Enjoy the site. That is all, good night.

Where Have They Gone?

Over the past few days I’ve found myself, on frequent occasion, wondering about the people I used to know in college, the people I used to call close friends, classmates, running buddies. Remembering hanging out, eating dinner, running around Arkadelphia and downtown Hot Springs, talking on the phone, riding bikes around town, etc., and so on. Where are they now? Where am *I* now.

In the off chance that Google indexes this entry, and in the more off chance that my old friends google their own names, listed below is my statement to each of them. The listings are in no particular order.


Paul Price: I had no idea that the kid I laughed and joked around with at Super Summer in ’89 would have been one of the most influential people in my life. You were one of the major reasons why I went to Ouachita. You were THE major reason why I moved to Greensboro. I’m glad that our paths not only crossed but that they ran parallel. Thank you for opening up the immense world of incredible music to me; you saved this Texarkana metalhead from Led Zeppelin doom. I hope that you are enjoying a great job, excellent health, and a strong circle of friends.

Phil Price: You and I shared a good many years running in the same crowds; hell, I can’t believe we kept finding ourselves going for the same women at the same time; we should’ve used the “dibs” system. Heh. I’ve been meaning to email you and Paul for a while. How’s Greensboro these days? Have you heard from James Scarbrough?

Jack Cates: man, the times. You were my favorite smoking buddy. I know I currently live only an hour north of you, but how have you been? How’s your health? How’s your playwriting? I should write you. Hell, I should come *visit*. That’s a thought, huh? You know Scarborough Faire is going on now….

Tom Armstrong: If not for your level head and your availability to satisfy my need for high-quality chatter, between my two jobs and my classes in the summer of ’94 I would have probably hurt myself. You saved my sanity. Our walks, 48-hour talks, and running the place on the weekends meant a lot, and our trip to Hot Springs at the end of the summer was the most perfect capstone to the whole thing. The last time I saw you was before you joined the Marines. Heh. Sorry that you and Christina unceremoniously untied, no, ripped and slashed the knot. I know you have already had your fill of “I Told You So’s”. None from here. So how’ve you been, man? Seriously, you were important. Speak!

Jason and Elizabeth Files: Oh my god, where have you been? Are you still in Branson? Are you still married? I’ve been meaning to write you, but the addresses I have might be old and cold. I seriously miss you guys. You two *knew* me. You two understood.

Chris and Laura Piland: again, I’ll say thanks for letting me borrow your backup car for that semester. You are a mix of brains and braun, planning and impulse, blessing and charity. You two rule the world. Last I heard, you were in Dallas. Still there?

Karon Edge: you were my first fascination in college. Our week together was super great. I’m sad that I ended up being thicker than mud in the head; understand that I was pretty naive in those days. I just wasn’t “fast” enough. But I had fun nonetheless.

Donna Crochet: you were my first *real* girlfriend. Period. By the time you found me, I had gotten more worldly in my ways than I was in my freshman year. You taught me love. And it was with you that I found all the wrong things to do. We ended badly, we ended very badly, and I do express apologies. That summer was beautiful, and you were the biggest reason. But we’re a long way from 1995. A long way. How is life these days?

Stephen Gent: When I moved into our room in the fall of ’91, I had never met you, I had no notion of you. In fact, I was pretty trepidatious. But damn I’m glad I got to meet you. You had that fire, that kinetic love-of-life spark, the gregariousness I needed to learn. You taught me a LOT about sound, music, and recording. It was super cool living with you in ’91, and totally fun living with you in the summer of ’95. It was through you that I met Donna; that totally rocked. I’m sorry that everything went south between the three of us, and I regret that things have grown cold between you and I. You still have my respect; I can only hope I still have yours. Still married these days? How’s life in Houston?

Russell Files: are you still in the States or back in Germany? Directing music? Know how I can get in touch with Jason?

Jeanetta Bechdoldt: how is my “Jeanetra” doing? Still have the knack to make any clothing look good? Just curious. I always thought you were hot. Just regret never mentioning that to you.

Bob Stephenson: did you ever find your piece of heaven among the limelights?

Scott and Andrea McKane: I miss you guys. Thank you for opening the door of your apartment to frequent gatherings, and for hosting me and others for dinner, movies, and general hanging out. I miss our late-night drives, Zag-Nut runs, and stunt-road drives. Heh. I hope Little Rock is treating y’all well. Don’t stop the music.

Mike and Stephanie Self: you inspire me, even to this day. Idiosyncracies *do* matter; they make us unique. There is no one in this world more worthy of carrying the stark fist of survival more than you, Mike. Teach them all the right way, the way that makes most sense. Stephanie, your obsession with hand crafts, metalwork, and putting the most into the littlest things makes you legendary in my book. How did the dot-com thing treat y’all in Little Rock?

Stephen and Misty Granade: seriously, you two have set up high water marks for me to reach, and as much as I try, I’ll only get close. Your attention to details meant a lot to me. It’s so incredibly cool seeing art and science so perfectly matched in you two. Thanks for expanding my horizons. How’s Durham?

Pam Blackmon: our evening walks and late night talks meant a lot to me. I still miss them. You and Craig still in Boston? I heard about your new kid – you guys rock. I hope for the best for you.

Joelle Neally: woah, mama. You have class, you have style, you have everything to make the boys smile. Heh. You have made an effect on me and the way I communicate; that one day in the cafeteria, I was telling a dirty joke, and while stuttering in the process of trying to clean it up for general audiences, you told me to just say it. Just say it. For once, I heard someone tell me that. That impacted me, and was one of the things that further caused me to look at myself and my beliefs objectively. I’m glad that I got to know you and your no-nonsense attitude. I hope things are going well for you and your family in Greensboro. How is your family? Send my regards.

Michelle and Eddie Weathers: Michelle, it was strange knowing you before I ever met you. Your ceaseless advice and observations were exactly what I needed when I needed them, although I just didn’t know it. Thank you for all the rides between campus and Texarkana, by the way. Eddie, if not for sitting behind you in PreCal our first semester, I probably wouldn’t’ve met you; thanks for feeding me that first time you invited me to your place; my first taste of ramen. Heh. In later years, you were an excellent and totally laid-back roomate. It was a pleasure. My sincere apologies for never saying “Hi” when I’m in town. You know I love you guys. So how’s the new house? Have any kids yet? Don’t lose touch.

Josh Parker: Man, I still tell stories of you to my friends here. Your antics are legendary. You are the “id,” what can I say? You had balls, you weren’t afraid to show them, and you made everyone have a good laugh. Thank you for lightening things up, even when you were down. I hope you’ve found your peace and happiness. Keep shocking rocking the world.

Doug Waller: your matter-of-fact attitude and your quiet tour-de-force outlook on life were refreshing. You helped me keep my sanity in College Algebra. You were one of the brave few on that campus who’d not only play porn on your TV, but would do so with the volume turned on and other guys there helping to call color commentary. That was always a trip. If you’re still married, tell Jeena “Hi” for me. Get in touch, bro.

James Scarbrough: man, where the hell have you been? Don’t tell me you’re still in Biloxi. You were one of my best friends, man. When you cracked open your tough shell long enough to let me know more about who you were, that meant a hell of a lot. Damn. WHERE ARE YOU?!

Nate Cartwright: heh. After school, you kinda disappeared. I really hope you got a good tech job and career. You were always good for stuff like that. Our friday night X-Files ceremonies were important: thanks for offering your room as an altar. Heh. How’s Angie? How’s Chris? Know where James is? Get in touch!

Rix White: we didn’t always run together, but we still ran in the same circles. You usually led the way on your own path, and you added so much color to our drab campus. Thank you. How’s life?

Chad Pollock: I know we didn’t always agree on things. Hell, towards the end, we agreed on very little. But I think there, at the very end, we came to a concensus. I hope I was able to reconcile. I miss you, man; I miss your head-on dedication to whatever it was that you were doing. You and Rix and a few others were some of the only christians I knew who had it *right*. Thank you for your balanced viewpoint and your pointedly difficult questions.

Tony Christiansen: Living across the hall from you for so long means we’re friends, right? Hehe. Kidding. Does “goony-goo-goo” ring any bells? Haha. Your oddities aside, I did have fun hanging out with you and debating arcane things. How you been, man? Find your ministry job of choice?

Mark White: my favorite Republican. How is D.C. treating you? Did you make it there? Thanks for loaning me your computer in ’93 when you were interning for the summer. That made the world.

Todd Marshall: man, you dropped out of the picture. Called your grandparents; heard you moved to Texas. We had a connection, man. I wonder about you.

Rochelle Cannedy: good god, girl. I seriously regret not expressing to you how incredibly beautiful you were; did you know that I forgot to breathe when I first saw you? Thank you so much for hanging out with me during my dorm night-security shifts. You so totally rock.

Chris and Tanya Schee: you two were definitely unique. After y’all transferred to Henderson, you kinda dropped out of the picture, but I still remembered you. Still knew you. You kids doing ok?

Homer Meyer: yeah, even you meant something to me. Your attentions were so fervently on computers; you knew them, you understood them. You inspired me. Last I heard, you were in Arizona. How goes, man?

J.L. Hixson: although we only lived together our freshman fall semester, you offered me a completely different viewpoint than what I was accustomed to. You had a gung-ho attitude, and enough cockiness to boot. You taught me a mountain about being outdoors. It’s because of you that I enjoy walking and hiking at night; it became a necessary pastime in my later college years. If not for your training, and if not for your insistence on using no flashlight at night, I probably would’ve gone mental without the outlet of nature and solitude. I hope you’ve found your prize in life.

Glen Fowler: you meant a good deal to me. You were quiet, and you expressed friendship and support through your actions. Our nights of sneaking into the Physics lab to play computer games after hours totally rocked. Your skill at guitar was excellent. You were that odd balance between god and metal that I just couldn’t comprehend without opening my eyes. And, again, thank you for lending me your copy of “Stairway to Heaven” – that was immensely important in helping me to finally remove my rose-colored glasses, and to not only view things objectively but to view them with my own eyes instead of the eyes of someone else. I hope that you’ve found your sanity and that your retreat to your home town has given you suitable respite to become your own man again, whole and resolute in advancing yourself. It is good to have known you.

It is good to have known you all.


Out of my entire history of keeping journals, both online and offline, this is perhaps one of my most difficult entries to write. I’m trying to roll through those five and a half years, flip and fan fast-forward through their faces, jogging my memories, remembering the names. It’s nowhere near complete; it’s not thorough in the least, but these are the people who stick out to me the most. These people have meant the most. In the compilation of this list, I’ve actually shed a few tears. I felt something with these people. I remember these people.

It is my hope that they remember me.

Haplessly Travelled, Unhappily Tired

Day 0

The trip home to Texarkana started later than expected; I couldn’t leave town until 9pm. Something about packing up, getting showered, taking care of my car, things like that. I load up, gas up, hook up my laptop to my car stereo as an MP3 jukebox, and I hit the road, still tired from my day of work. I was making excellent time on my drive. When I reached Henderson, TX, I switched over to state highway 43 where I had the excellent fortune to turn on my high-beams and tear off through the wide hills. I made the leg from Henderson to Marshall in a respectable time.

However, once I got onto US Highway 59 in Marshall, and as I was just past the north edge of town, I’m driving through the 55mph “ramp up” zone getting ready to accelerate to the highway speed of 65mph. Well, a DPS officer saw me, and he had so much respect for my early 65mph speed that he decided to pull me over and congratulate me. Even got my autograph. I had no idea that a 10mph overage would make me a celebrity. Now I have to call the judge in Marshall to make arrangements to pay the roughly $122 fine. So, yeah, there goes my perfect driving record. Shot. Shit. I’m so pissed. More pissed than you would believe. :sighs:

So, the cop sends me on my way with my green slip. I get in, and I want so much to just tear off, but he’s still right behind me. Grr. I just drove off slowly, carefully. I didn’t even turn my music back on. Just sat and stewed for the rest of the drive, face more stern and angry as the miles passed. In a case of shellshock, I suspiciously looked at every car I passed in the opposite lane, every pair of headlights behind me, never knowing if any of them were cops. Ahead of me, there was a storm on the rise, tall clouds glowing with flashes of orange. And I was still an hour from Texarkana.

Finally, I make it to my cousin’s house, where my mother lives. I pull into the driveway, my cousin’s husband greets me and extends the invitation to have a drunken walk around the neighborhood, but I declined in lieu of getting some couch time. I unloaded my stuff from my car and brought it inside. No sooner did I sit down and open up the laptop to get online, in order to report to my friends back home, the rumbling skies opened up over us with sonic booms, bright flashes, and torrents of rain. I opted to put my laptop away and wait for later.

After my eventful and misfortunate trip up to Texarkana, and the oncomforting welcome, I turned in for what can only loosely be called “bed” around 5:30am and passed out.

Day 1

After being woken up by my mother leaving for work, my cousin coming home from work, and the various trappings of couch stiffness and coldness forcing me awake, I woke up a very rough five hours later and finally crawled out of the couch to start my day around noon. One shower and half a cola later, I meet with my mother at IHOP, where she works as cashier and hostess, for lunch. After her replacement came in, we hung out, ate, and we chatted for a good two hours.

I found out that she’s not making that much here, at least not much compared to her old job at the paper mill, but she enjoys her job. Her coworkers respect her and her boss loves her. That counts for a lot. She’s also not too happy with living in what can affectionately be called a “mother-in-law’s house” behind my cousin’s place. She’s paying only $25 a week, sure, but it’s definitely not the digs that she was used to way back when. We share some more gossip, some more chatter, and we had to split up to do other things. She had errands, I had people to meet. So I paid the tab and we head off.

I stopped by Moderne Primitives to see who was there and hang out for a bit. Always good to see those guys. Then I headed off to visit my friends Laura, Jon, Liz, and Doug at the “Cigar Hut”, and for once, thanks to the wonders of Daylight Saving Time technology, I go there BEFORE the sun sets. And for what? To watch TV. Ah, sweet TV. Some Cirque de Soleil thing was on, rather entertaining; more entertaining to hear my friends going, “Oh my god, that’s just not natural! How do they do that? Gah!” Heh. Had a small birthday party for our friend Hoover; he was something like three hours late, so we gave him much hell over it. We had hot dogs and cake, traditional kid-party stuff, and watched more TV. Everyone started to get snoozy, and one-by-one we all kinda pealed off to go to bed.

I left and went to David and Angie’s house, where they and their friends Brian, Curtis, Karla, and (some other guy — sorry) were wrapping up another of their usual AD&D sessions. They had one of their computers connected to the widescreen TV as a monitor with a webcam and mic sitting on top. They had a friend of theirs from Oklahoma on an IM session who was joined in with them on their game. Heh. It’s gaming taken to the next level! Telegaming! It was their first trial at doing something like that, but I can see how this could take off. Y’know? Heh.

They splintered off after a while, everyone getting sleepy, so I opted to leave. I intended to go driving around to see what’s changed in Texarkana since my chistmas visit, and to find some more wireless hotspots, but I was much too tired to even see the road straight. So I grabbed a cola on the way and made the beeline straight back to my cousin’s couch around 12:30am. Yeah, early night.

Day 2

2pm, at IHOP: So, I’m here at IHOP. It’s around 2pm, and I’m waiting on my sister, who just hired on here, to get off of her shift and come back here to hang out with me. I got up around 11 this morning, and kinda lazed around for a little bit. The house was absolutely frigid thanks to the open window, the ceiling fan, and the cold front that blasted through yesterday, so I just skipped the shower, washed my face and changed clothes before I headed out. This really is a mean north wind on us. Overcast. Not an ounce of warmth in sight. I just hope the rain holds off for my entire trip back home tonight. Ugh. So yeah, I’m here. Just had some breakfast, and I’m pretty full. Sipping on coffee, and avoiding the odd looks and glances of the other people who were here. I mean, seriously, if I still lived in this town, I’d probably give an odd look at anyone who sat up in IHOP on an easter sunday with a laptop. Seriously. Wouldn’t you? Heh.

My sister’s about to get off shift, and my mother will be leaving her shift about an hour later, so I reckon I’ll put away the journal. We have a shindig at my sister’s house, a little bit of dinner. Then I gotta be on my way back home, to Austin. Yeah, Austin’s my home. This is just my home town. Heh.


Ok. Went to my sister’s house to join her family for a grilled-out easter dinner. Brother-in-law cooked up some good meats. The rain was starting to come down, so we had to do the “hiding of the eggs” thing inside the house, which was entertaining. Those kids. Glad I don’t have any. Heh.

So around 8pm my mother and I leave, and we part ways from there. I had to get in to town, gas up, and try to find a wireless hotspot so I could check the weather. No luck: all the wireless hotspots I found yielded very bad connections; either I got no IP address, no DNS ip, no gateway, or I just couldn’t associate long enough to fulfill an HTTP request. After wasting too much time and seriously starting to feel the fatigue, I had no choice but to leave town and get under way around 9pm. So much road ahead of me.

Well, the rain started getting worse the darker it got. It took me about 20 minutes to get past the edge of Texarkana, and that was just too much time. Should never take more than 10. Seemed like a harbinger of the bad roads ahead. And that couldn’t have been more correct. The leg from Texarkana, through Atlanta, and on to Marshall shouldn’t take more than an hour: it took an hour and a half. By the time I reached Marshall, the rain was pretty on-and-off rough, and the road surface was just as sketchy. Most places I couldn’t drive faster than 45mph. I carefully made my way through town and reached the other side where I transfered off of 59 and got onto 43 to make it to Henderson. Well, apparently they were having some serious storming there, because the traffic lights apparently weren’t working. Actually, nothing was working. That side of Marshall had a power outage. Was really bizarre taking the roads and curves I was accustomed to, but lited only by my headlights. Weird. So I’m on 43 and it takes even longer than expected; the roadways are horrible on that back highway. One long waterpuddle. One long chance to hydroplane. Thankfully, the rains started to recede when I reached Henderson. And, just like my drive back to Austin after my christmas trip, well, actually exactly like it, the rain finally let up at Palestine, my half-way point. Finally I could drive like I mean it. Damn.

With the worst of the trip behind me, staying awake was easier, and I listened to a good amount of MP3’s that I’ve not heard in a long while. Was entertaining running my jukebox on “serendipity mode”. I guess that and the Mountain Dew, more than anything else, helped me stay awake for the remaining 3 hours of my drive. Couldn’t have been anything else. I finally pulled in to Austin around 3:30 this morning. I loaded my stuff in, unpacked it, checked in with friends online, called my mother’s answering machine to let her know I made it home, and I passed the hell out, only to wake up 3 hours later for work.

So. This weekend could have been better. Shit, it could have been a lot better. If I had actually made a decent connection with someone, y’know, actually sat down and cracked wise, or caught up, y’know, really made that interpersonal connection, like I had in trips before, then I think the whole misadventure would’ve been worth it. But outside of chatting with my mother, which was good to do I’ll have you know, I really just, well, I didn’t feel like the weekend was worth anything. Yes, it’s good to see family. Yes, it’s good to spend time with them. Yes, it’s good to see old friends, and see how much your hometown has changed, and see how little you have left with the place, yes, that’s all good, but it’s not worth everything I put in and got taken out. It’s not worth the traffic ticket, or the fatigue. Gah. Maybe I’m just selfish.

Ok. So here’s where I recapitulate my lessons learned:

  1. Never sing while driving. Ever.
  2. Never ramp up your speed until you are past the highway-speed signs
  3. Officer Friendly pays a lot of attention to oncoming traffic around “bar-rush” – he does not care that you don’t live in his precinct
  4. You have 30 days after moving to update your address with the Department of Public Safety in order to be issued a new driver license
  5. There’s not enough Claritin in the world to help you handle your home town’s foreign pollen and the dander and fur of all the pets your family and friends own
  6. Lint brushes are your best friend, but they do not love you
  7. When you’re tired, nothing matters, not even driving around to see what’s changed
  8. My wireless card seriously sucks. It is time to get a good one.
  9. The next time I visit Texarkana, I really should consider renting my own hotel room.
  10. After a long and arduous journey, you too can discover, upon unpacking, that you left a precious pair of your jeans in the bathroom of your cousin’s house six hours away.

That is all. Seriously. I love my family, but I’m really, really glad to be home.

Now is the time where I pass the hell out.

Beware the Easter Goldfish, Children

To the good people of Texarkana:

I will be making a two-day holiday visit this weekend in celebration of Easter, to be spent with family and friends. (Wait, I’m celebrating Easter? But I’m an atheist! Hmm.)

“Mummy, I woke up today and there was a lincoln log in me sock drawer!”
“That’s the story of Jesus!”

My arrival will be the usual: very late friday night. My departure will be sunday evening, the usual, to arrive home very late sunday night. The drudgery.

You have been forewarned.

Thank you.

Remember: Bill Hicks died for your sins.