A very foggy morning, then clouds, a little sun this afternoon. Our high was 70F. There's talk of torandoes.
I'm tired, and I'm back to that place where I likely should not be writing a blog entry? How impaired is my judgment? Today I began reading whackadoo
Bob Lazar's autobiography.
Lunatics fascinate me, I fear.
Yesterday, Z (Christopher Wilde) said to me, "Fuck's sake, I just heard someone on a podcast say that the songwriter (though he used the also-irritating term, 'producer.') was 'curating the notes.'" No, that's not language evolving. That's just stupidity. Try harder not to be stupid.
Do please visit
the Dreaming Squid Sundries shop. Right now, the "extra" money helps a bunch. Very little is coming in from other sources.
Later Tater Bugs,
Aunt Beast
4:06 p.m. (day before yesterday)