Four scores and seven years ago (or Febuary 2008...), post a parade of patron, a rumble of rum, and a volume of vino, I had pledged to you fine souls a letter, a note, a memo if you will, alliterating tales of (in and out) the Tdot city. Of rants recently raged, schtik scenes spontaneously staged, and arriving in predicaments which should have my sanity weighed.
Alas, like many, of my many endeavors, pursuits and propositions, ideas and intentions, (Being a Vegan Butcher, beginner’s French for the fifth time beginner, maturity, rationality) it too, flip, slipped, and spiraled down the rabbit hole.
Many a blog were begun…
“The holidaying hobo”
Herman Hesse meets Jack Kerouac on the Euro rail
“Squirrel Squabbles”
Summer siesta stories (interrupted by rodent rogues, hedgehog hoodlums, or benchside hollerations)
“Crackheads and Cupcakes”
Living life in the West end
All created with such excitement (inebriation) and gusto, and not so much followed by a nexto. Quite the busto.
But a constant expressed interest (not instigated or brought up casually in conversation by me) for a revival of these recollections (when possible) which make you feel less bad about the decisions you make, has lead me to believe (and I of course am not gullible to self adoration) that I should re consider penning these parables.
So tonight, tonight, tonighhht (with billy corgan droning in my head) paralleling previous chapters inception, gushing with grigio, I reinitiate this endeavour ( there may be a theme to these memoirs. ..I may consider switching the title to word your ethanol enthusiasm... or parentheses paralysis).
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
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