Waiting...

    Waiting...

    Still waiting...

    C'mon Vicodin.  Do your whacky magics.

    Mornings are the worst.  During the course of the night, when all is snoozy, dreamy and wonderful, my cocktail of pain medication tends to trickle from my system, and like a thundering herd of sweaty, frothy beasts, the aches return in an unstoppable stampede across the landscape of my bones and joints and points in between.  It makes for a rather grumpy morning, usually.  Some days are worse than others, but all days are freakin' annoying. 

    For example, this morning, I was sleeping peacefully and dreaming happy dreams of playing a concert at The Gorge Amphitheater in George, Washington.  It was all going swimmingly until I tried to pick up my guitar.  For some reason, a security guard was using my Stratocaster to smash insects, and as I tried to take it away from him, my hands wound up on the floor to be smashed along with the ants by this over zealous guard.  When I woke up, and the idyllic concert-scape began to fade, the aches of smashed knuckles didn't, and I knew that it was going to be a long, long day. 

    Don't worry though.  I've got some reasonably effective pain medication, and my Humira is hiding in a corner of Emily's fridge waiting to be stabbed into my leg at some point today.  So, if nothing else, today's road to travel should be paved with the new, smooth, black asphalt of opiates and mystery juice.

    Aside from that extended whine, how the hell is everyone?  I know it's been unusually silent here lately, and I wish I had an explanation for my absence.  The thing is, most days, I'm not hurting too badly here, and that opens the door for me to either get things done or just simply relax and enjoy this whole mostly-painless existence.  Still...  Every now and then, like today, things will be screamin' nasty.  I don't get it. 

    Let's see... 

    Oh!  Apparently, I've been signed up to receive Fred Thompson email.  So, thank you to whomever it was who did that little trollish antic.  I know that rather than argue your case, it can sometimes be easier to just fill my spam folder with irrelevancies.  The funny thing is, I've noticed that little slice of brain-fail seems to be the sole-domain of America's under-educated political right.  It's interesting, I suppose.

    Anyway, I've got to get to scribbling.  Have a great day, everyone.  I'll try to be less of an enigma and post more.  But, then again, it's freakin' summer, and this cat needs the sun!

-DP