"Seems everything I like's a little bit stronger, a little bit thicker, a little bit harmful for me..."

Someone just asked me when I was going to write some more. Said it had been a while since I wrote a new post. Now is probably not the best time, since I'm at home in between washing and drying cycles at the laundromat.
I hate the laundromat. Still, listening to Rufus while I tug the wet clothes from the heavy duty washer and lug them over to the dryer helps a little. His sometimes hazy-lazy voice makes me drift off, makes me ignore the crackhead asleep in the plastic chair in front of the blaring television set, propped high above the machines, probably so nobody steals it. He makes me forget. But then Johnny Cash, that rascally raconteur chuggs onto my Shuffle in to make me sigh with recognition that I, too, have fallen into a ring of fire.

"I fell for you like a child,
Oh, but the fire went wild..."


Thanks Johnny, Godess rest your soul.