Falling Into Old Habits Is As Easy As Banging Old Wimmerns

It's the return of the shit. I took a brief hiatus to, you know, get my entire life flipped upside down and now I'm the goddamn Prince of Bel-Air. Not really, but hey, I got a beach on the back end of all the fuckery so it's p. sweet. I've started saying p. for pretty, deal. 

Anyway, we moved to NC again and are loving, and I mean physically (as in a carnal type of engorged member out and penetrating) the beach and all its minutiae: Tools, wildlife, shells, waves, tides, grass, fat rotisserie chicken-looking old women who come there and drink Bud Light in a can with a coozy as they sit around with their men-folk and berate the current Blackness of the Prez, younguns playing in the surf, and all manner of debauches washed away with a suitcase of Pabst and packages, nay cartons of cigarettes.

It has been one of the best and most fruitful times of the old existence 'round these parts.


When we moved, all the Alaska peeps chorused the same refrain, "What are you going to do for JOBS?" I was slightly peeved at this as that question is the one thing people say when they don't want you to go away, but want to pull at the rational strings of your mind because they can't come out and say, "Well, goddammit! If you leave my life will be devalued in some subtle sense that I can't quite place, but to bring up such an emotional thing would leave me feeling like I'm the Asshole, and my psyche can't cope with such a development yet." ANYWAY, I always wanted to tell these peeps, as well meaning as they were, that, "Hey, I've got a nip of the old gypsy blood in me and we've always made out (save for the Holocaust, but, you know, circumstance)."

There are things that happen in your life and you have to take them and ride the wave of it and wash up, somewhere, where things are going to be okay and children happen and lives unfold and myriad upon myriad shitty days pile up into a good life that you're sad to see go and then, and then, it just is the most beautiful and heart obliterating thing to ever grace the human stage.

To all the jobs asking peeps, well, there's no better way to put it than, "The Lord will provide."


And He did.