The Barber Paradox, two orange crested Grill Robins in the bg? Chuck Pace ©2007
Down here in the well of repose, the pit of remorse, the gully of exasperation I'm having a hard time finding the rope that brings me up to the rut I'm supposed to be in. I have knocked off a layer of crust over my eyes only to find that the scales are still there underneath. Apparently i was asleep, but no so apparent is the fact that I may be awake right now. I am struggling with small things like manual dexterity, visual acuity and ambulatory motor coordination. In other words it is hard to wake up this longest day of the work week. I've just knocked off more eye grime that is the size and texture of money plant seeds, and am re reading the previous dreck from the drowsy fool that took over my body while I was asleep (sort of) (warning: sleeping may cause drowsiness, do not attempt to operate heavy sarcasm or motorized extremity movement, if you have quantum issues consult your physics teacher right away.
There was a Craft Beer tasting at the box last night. I was there tasting the Corona's and Jenni the Old Latrobe '33' stock, Rich was out after one bottled beauty and Mike Wilson was the only one of the crew to partake of the 5 fine offerings. The Damn-near Sipes were there but only for a singleton and the viewing, then they too were off like month old milk. Jeff Skippy Barber was there and drinking a Spataan that was spot on, but having a hard time seeing me from clear across the table. Christy, from the mail-order hot house showed up for a half dozen or so whit a shepherd in Wolf's clothing. And before you cross the Chasm of Sar the night had found its way back round the solar discus and the day found in itself that lunar glow of completeness. Well we had to go home before the last embers of the day were extinguished, and once home we watched the Clive Owen, Julianne Moore flicker,"Children of Men" sat in the depressing future of Great Britain 2027.
Much thanks to DeAnne and Vanessa for there repeated attempts and successes bringing beauty and beverage through the sticky portal of progress and revitalization. Push! Push! Now breath, and hand me that beer. Thankfully Christy was able to supply enough conversation that the rest of us gave our mouths much needed vacation time. No, really.
Props to Micky McGowan in the city of Poe, I enjoyed the disembodied voice through the vapors of space, now that you have props you are just a few thousands of parts away from having the whole boat. Here is your side armed salute, "Hail Kosar".
Chuck Pace © 2007
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