Be Still My Slowly Beating Domestic Heart

This old bird here is collecting some dust these days. I've been dicking around over on Tumblr, and honestly everything has pretty much come to a grinding halt. I could just put together a little list of things that I do each day and copy and paste it over and over again to account for the past few weeks. I generally get up early, have a rocket fuel cup of french press coffee, and make sure that the earth is still spinning on its axis by reading celebrity gossip and nerdy tech news on the internet. Then (usually after looking at funny pictures of cats for 10-15 mins) I take a shower and lumber out the door into the warm, California winter sunshine. From there it's anyone's guess. A walk in the woods, a nap on the beach, tacos. Who's really to say? I have been gardening like a maniac though. After losing a number of houseplants to a phantom parasite (not unlike a Days of Heaven- esque swarm of locusts, on a smaller scale) I've decided to replant because I fear neither man nor beast. The bay windows in the living room lend themselves to growing, and I've got some wild looking poppys that seem to really be going for it. If all else fails I can make some bathtub heroin. Just kidding, I wouldn't even begin to know how to look that up on the internet.















I find that being as domestic as possible keeps me grounded. If I didn't have little activities I think that with 2 or so months to myself that I would elect to being stoned listening to Miles Davis records in my underwear all day. I'd be a later days Jim Morrison on the couch, watching The View and mumbling to myself 'follow the snake, to the lake, the lake is drrrryyyyyy.' Yeah, I much prefer learning how to cook steak in my new skillet (shit yeah, I've got a skillet).















I've also spent some time with my head under the hood of a '73 chevy, sort of learning as I go along. It's kind of bunk living in a city and trying to work on a car, but I suppose I make do. Usually I tinker around and then take it to my mechanic and explain exactly what I hit with the hammer and what isn't working because of it. Next up, a horn that plays the dukes of hazard theme, or maybe a bottle opener on the dashboard.















This is the second time I've seen this, and the second time that it has confused me. Really, if you have a car that costs more than $100,000 do you actually take it to the busted old Phillips 76 station down the street that considers it a good day when they don't botch an oil change or light your interior on fire trying to rotate the tires? Just a thought. Isn't there a place where Ferrari owners go to have their diamond studded windshield wiper blades switched out? What do I know?















Nothing wrong with a good day at the beach watching the ships roll slowly into the bay. Unless of course this happens.















Last night in The Castro I had a burger and beer at Harvey's. All things ordinary. My waiter, however, was named 'Toblerone.' I mean I love chocolate as much as the next guy, but naming your first born after your favorite dessert is just a disaster waiting to happen. I guess you could call him 'Toby.'















It's almost time for my annual listen to minor threat and do my taxes party. If anyone is interested let's set a date, I'll make the vegan chicken pot pie. Tonight is Erin's birthday party. If I'm not heard from in 72 hours start checking the ditches in North Beach. Also DS, who has been laying dormant for a few weeks now has made me laugh several times over today. Well done, and good show sir.