So let's say that you find a shell, as you go walking on a beach one day. The storm has just passed and the beach is filled, and I mean filled with shells. You love shells, but after you look at them for a while, no matter how unique, you think, well maybe I'm ready for a different shell.

But this time you find one that's incredible, and I mean great. Your pockets are full and you cannot carry anymore, so you have to carry it in your hand. But you also have a coffee in hand, so really, your choice is to either pick up the shell and walk back home to read the New Yorker over banana pancakes and/or avocado, ham, mushroom, and cheese omelettes, or rather continue down the beach looking for more, knowing full well that the shell in your hand (assuming of course that you cannot get rid of the shells in your pocket, as they are for someone else and you don't have the right) will suffer the fate of being moved and dropped when you find one that suits your needs more. It doesn't care, but your guilt is larger than any feelings this thing might have.

So here you are. A beach filled with sea shells, and breakfast waiting for you, getting cold.

Keep looking . . . or go and eat your omelette, shell in hand . . . what do you do?

any takers . . .

what I did today . . .
and will do everyday from now on when it's above 45 and there's no hail

okay, well i just posted this and it looks weird. I didn't see those lines on when I drew it but hey, whaddyagonnado

Sometimes it's better to travel than to arrive.

-Pirsig

More often than not, it's always better to travel than to arrive.

-Trzeciak

So I got married today to a certain emotional punching bag what calls me asshole. Oh it was tremendous - the bent up aggresssion that is.

So then I find out that this would be Mrs.Asshole has been married three other times! In the same goddamn day!

So we finished anyway because I'm never one to walk away from something I've started and of course, I'm catholic, so once you make the decision . . . besides I changed my name, so I'd like to know who's the real scammer here. Ha HA!

So she signs my cert and I sign hers and it's official, especially because it looks as though one person signed all of them. I know fate when I see it.

So then the moment of truth came . . . all over the place, and we parted. So of course like any other wedding, I ended up at the bar. And like Kermit says, we did just what we set out to do, thanks to the lovers, the dreamers, and you.

What a great pissed off wedding and I thank you Mrs.Asshole.

Manhattan Murder Mystery or King Lear, that is the question.

Oh shite, ze water is boiled. I shall now have me tea for me ailing bod.

As Oliver would say, be back soon.