.....Sneaked or snuck? A streak of luck......

Summer snuck in the back door like I used to with a lady friend I used to have, and like me I am happy that it came so quickly.

Now at the age of twenty-six I can laugh once again in the face of basil and squamous cell carcinoma, and chuckle quietly with feigned respect in the maw of malignant melanoma.

I seemingly lost the ability to write coherently around the same time I lost the ability to spell. It was a quick downward turn that has left me fumbling for a hobby.

I used to just write and like it. Now I write and hate it. I don't hate the writing, I hate what I write.

Clarity.

I had a dream the other nite that the Kosmonauts played a huge a show and got signed to a label. Some would say thats a nitemare not a dream. But of course in the dream, I forgot the words to a song and the crowd just sang it for me....

I am not getting old yet. I am creeping up on 30 with a half pool cue and a surly disposition, ready to smack it on the temple and lay it out.

I am supposed to buy something if I am going to use the computer in Coffee O down in Woods Hole. I have not the currency in my possesion to buy what they proffer. But like always I have the gall to stride right in and use their internet. If gall was currency, I could pay Bill Gates to ass rape Oprah and have Steven Spielberg film it.

But gall gets you nothing except slapped in the face in a world of Vineyard Vines belts and ties and Lily Pulitzer (sic?) 6 hundred dollar sun dresses. A world where things are the new other things. Nantucket red is the new pink. I have a red hat that got faded in the sun and it turned pink. I still wear that hat.

And I am vaciliating on whether or not to call it Nantucket red.

I don't own much and I live for free; sometimes in my truck, most other times in random boarding houses. I have a good job that I like. I am lonley but I should be cause I am born loner and I am fuckin greedy.

I saw my first set of extremely large breasts that rested on a girl that was out of my league. I felt like a house slave sneaking into the lady of the house's anteroom and having my way with her only to have slink out to chop wood again before being caught.

I am an outsider sitting in a screened in porch, feeling like the jump from PBR cans to High Life bottles is an expendature that will send me to a different social stratus.

So long for now...TCBeing on Cape....