More news from nowhere dept:

If not for the flat tire today that forced me to turn around and march up a hill I would have been caught in a torrential downpour from which I would have no doubt contracted pneumonia or a nasty case of 'smacked by a soccer mom van while bicycle riding in the rush hour rain-itis'. That and I wouldn't have seen the secret trail behind the abandoned daycare center nor the improvised birdhouse made out of a Minute Maid carton nailed to a dead tree. All journal worthy entries I assure you. But mainly I wouldn't have gotten a few vital pages knocked out on chapter 3 - "Mook Circus at Old McBastard's Farm" - where I somehow manage to avoid killing anyone off for a full 3,000 words or so.

Why it was enough that, for a moment there, I forgot that today marks the third year that I've been single.

Oh bored and casual strangers, could the secret to my accidental celibacy be that I never gave enough of a fuck when I had the chance to give otherwise?

Stay tuned...

Casual Friday:

Ready for the Weekend: