A message for someone who will understand it is for them.

Your present circumstances truly does not reflect your true worth. Great things will happen.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T

Up (against the wall) with People

When I am in power, people who play loud youtube videos in restaurants of their grandkids twerking will be shot.

The revolution will be classy and silent. And maybe slightly pompous.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that is not shaking its arse in public, thank god

They know.

I'm sorting through paperwork, throwing some (most) away. It's making them agitated; they have become suddenly playful, but in a nervous, almost desperate way. They are running around the room, darting under the bed, jumping on the dresser, but they can't run and I can't hide them from the misery to come. They know; they aren't stupid. They have repeatedly learned that sorting and throwing away papers means they have to go into a box that goes into a vehicle that goes on forever to somewhere that isn't home. But this time they're wrong.

This time it is going home. Wherever it turns out to be.

Small Victory

I have my emergency passport.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T

For some strange reason...

...the British Embassy has my birthday emblazoned on its wall.

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone from AT&T

Finding meaning where there is none.

Yes, there are two paths you can go by, but in the long run...

Sent from my HTC PURE™, a Windows® phone that played the solo on Jeff Beck's Telecaster

People Watching at the Riverhead Grill again.

I'm having breakfast at the Riverhead Grill again. Ham steak and eggs (scrambled) and "Apache" and "Runaround Sue" on the radio. And who walks in and sits down next to me other than Mr Loquacious and his girl. ( And yes, I understand the irony of me accusing anyone of talking too much). They must be regulars. And if they weren't an item then, they are now. He chased her, but she caught him. As it should be. They order breakfast, and he launches into another self-absorbed soliloquy. On and on and on. She listens, with genuine interest, but only to a point; she then slowly raises her finger to his lips, gently brushing across them and stopping dead center; a finger in the dyke of his brain, stopping the 5 knot flow of words. She whispers something that I can't hear, but if I have learned anything from my time on ths planet, I could probably repeat what what she says verbatim. I seem to be correct; still silent (and slightly flustered), he pays the bill in a confused manner, leaves way too big of a tip, and leaves in a hurry. She follows confidently, with a walk that is almost a stroll. I am reminded of Donna Reed walking home with Jimmy Stewart, with a broken window in their wake.

The food is hardly touched.

I think I have just had a masterclass in the way power and the world really works.

I'm rooting for him. I'm rooting for them.
Sometimes, I guess, we can't screw it up, no matter how hard we try.

Buffalo gals, won't you come out tonight?

This gives me hope. Spero meliora.

Sent from my HTC GOGETEMTIGER™, a Windows® phone from AT&T that falls into swimming pools and lassos the moon