The time of your life. If time is just a thing to keep everything from happening all at once, how can THAT be your life? Maybe time is only the thing that lets you develop, like fermentation. Time is moonshine. But if we're stardust, billion-year-old carbon, and the moon isn't a star, can reality just be driving towards the sun with your visor down? I see trees of green and red roses too but how wonderful is life with you in this world? How can a non-spatial continuum be the defining thing of my life? your life? It cannot. Love is the spatial endless thing that leads you to "the love of your life".

Hung up from the phone call that left open the idea that 6 more weeks of "light duty = dip me in horse shit and call me Trigger". Trash the Swan Dive from a Cessna idea and think about coffee on the meranda. See? All that boo-hoo cancer talk is over and the Media button is stuck on daily updating, so la-dee-WTF?. Sitting on the top of the bay Hotshitsville allows the temperance to be specific so the kanji can perform it's miracle, so excuse me while I turn water into piss gin rickeys forever amalgam voodoo and strike up the band.

Previous attempts concerning the meaning of life are already done for a wiseman sayeth "if you hold it with your index finger and thumb, you're afraid of it". I think I wrote "I don't want to set the world on fire" because I pretty much was like a Zippo that needed a new flint. Talk about boner makers, flipping the lid on the Zippo and rolling the wheel all in one motion then lighting a Marlboro, man - like roll of quarters in your pocket. 6 mo' weeks