Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Don't Get Any On You

I'm in a major funk. It's the holiday season and I should be all glorious, but it's gotten out of my control. Don't know why, but I just feel like a piece of burnt toast.

Apparently, when you are in this mood, you retreat to your shop and measure shit.

I wrote down what I measured, which is even sadder. I don't know exactly what I am measuring or why. I think I just want spring to come. Last winter was good for about the next five years.

Sorry to drag you down. Well, actually, I'm not. If I'm going, I'd rather take you with me. I didn't start this blog as some kind of charity event.


Hank Greer said...

Hmm, so how does that measure up on the sanity tape? Use metric if the larger numbers make you feel better.

Anonymous said...

I have the perfect cure for the holiday blues. You missed solstice again this year. Don't be a wussy and come ride with us on NY eve. Meet you downtown tomorrow night!

Pat S said...

Hank, larger numbers do make sense. 6 on a scale of 10, or 152.4 on a scale of 254? That's a no-brainer. My specialty.

SRV, I'm starting to warm up to your remedy.

Anonymous said...

You need some sad lady music, man. Like this one:

It's coming on Christmas
They're cutting down trees
They're putting up reindeer
And singing songs of joy and peace
I wish I had a river
I could skate away on

Yeah skate dude, you gotta skate!!! Make yourself a girly drink with kahlua or rum, put on Joni or Janis:

You can go all around the world
Trying to find something to do with your life, baby,
When you only gotta do one thing well,
You only gotta do one thing well to make it in this world, babe.
You got a woman waiting for you there,
All you ever gotta do is be a good man one time to one woman
And that’ll be the end of the road, babe,
I know you got more tears to share, babe,
So come on, come on, come on, come on, come on,
And cry, cry baby, cry baby, cry baby.


Yeah, that's right, have a redeyed drunk-ass cry with those blue 60s ladies moaning on the shop boombox, then go in the house, hug the wife for no apparent reason, make some coffee, go back to the shop, crank AC/DC and HTFU! man, HTFU!!

Back in black
I hit the sack
I've been too long I'm glad to be back
Yes I'm, let loose
From the noose
That's kept me hanging about
I keep looking at the sky
'Cause it's gettin' me high
Forget the hearse 'cause I'll never die




Dick Cheney

Pat S said...

Dear Dick, . . . errr, I mean "Mr Cheney",

You obviously have a tremendous amount of time on your hands. That aside, your advice has rocked my world and the tall task of accepting your truth has taken me all of these first five days of the new year. Looking in the mirror is never easy.

Now that I have come to grips with reality, I just wish we could hug it out, bitch

But alas, you don't really exist. Oh well, even though you are a ghost, I still resolve to HTFU. I know that with Joni and Janis and a gallon of rum at my side, I will not fail.

Best wishes for the new year and thank you for not inviting me to go hunting. But maybe we could take a ride sometime and test out that ticker.