i shot the local weather man just to watch him die!
no, it would not be a senseless, post-modern, lack of old fashioned values, no respect for human life, no concept of right and wrong, lack of familial nurturing sort of killing. nah, not that kind at all.
dude promised low's in the 60's with little humidity. 5:30 am. 76 degrees. sticky.
he's a prick. plain and simple.
dead man forecasting.
[moment to gather oneself]
other than hunting meteorologist's, been busy as hell with ye old appraisal work. good. work=money=sustainability.
the gunners scored twice late to bring an early end to newcastle's carling cup campaign! rejoice! we visit west ham united (cheers mark! sorry, no tv stateside) on saturday morning... so we should have the weekend outlook by 11am or so.
today's weather: partly cloudy with scattered blood-stained bow ties.
mr. hobbs is supplying food for my jazz collection. what a good mate! my pops, who likely had one of the more impressive jazz vinyl collections anywhere, would have turned 80 this week! whew! time flies when you're semi orphaned! you'd be smiling pops, a young black cat is leading the F1 championship in a mc-claren and i'm starting to acquire an ear for jazz piano. oh yea, and the cowboys seem legit again! you take care man. remind the big fella, i'm not necessarily flawed, perhaps just a late bloomer. ok. maybe a little flawed.
you peeps have a good (arsenal outcome pending) weekend!
this record, when it finally comes out. may just save rock and roll!
brickwallboy ooooot.
marc chagall, woman and the roses (1929)