morning

Tis September, friends. One of my fave months- horns of plenty (dirty!), the crispness, the smell of HARVEST, mown grass, fecund hedgerows, burning leaves, etc. However, this is also the time of year when I have to put on real shoes as opposed to the fancy free flip flops of summer time. My feet feel like a sweaty Andre the Giant squeezing himself into a bedazzled body stocking. Peeps, it's no fun for anybody, not for me, not for the man on the train who caught me taking off my shoes and grimacing like a dispeptic fishwife. Nasteeee.



Seriously, if you look up 'chafe' in the fucking dictionary, this is the shit winking at you from the page. I taste salt just looking at that guy.

Bing! I'm back people. Like a bad case of crabs, you may get rid of me, but I will linger in your memory FOREVER... and then when you are at your most vulernable, I shall strike again:

Ummmmm...



I just tried to find *the* perfect crab costume picture and stumbled upon this hot mess instead. It's liek she is a s and m pimp from the Renaissance and he ate Alice Cooper ca. "Wayne's World' and is feelign so fat he tried to minimise his waist with a belt he fucking stole from Santa Claus. HOW the funk did these people even dre show up to the Santa Rosa West Rotary Club Costume Party and Crab Feed 2007 (sidebar: WHAATTTTTTT!!!!???)????? And even fucking WORSE: these sadass bitches WON.

I know. I'm reaching for my quill and parchment right now to write an incensed letter to Whom It May Concern. Because guess the fuck what:



THESE crazy-ass freakz wuz ROBBED.