They came with the wood. I didn't order them, and neither did the mullethead. The one who did, refused to say why.
The mullethead is bouncin' off the walls with excitement, and I have my suspicions, but I'm not exactly ecstatic over it. I'm not really anythin' over it.
I wonder when things are gonna get real interestin' 'round here? Dare I ask how interestin' things can get in the next 118 days. . .IF I stay the full term. After all, I am told the last 15 days are optional, though I'm probably gonna wanna stick around.
Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!
Well, what's two weeks and a day more, huh? I was told I can 'live' that time like a total nihilistic hedonist.
But am I not doin' that already?
OK, so I'm tame by those standards, but I love runnin', skatin', long walks in the woods, intellectual discussion, a good meal, a good, intricate, unconventional makin' out with my two lovers, ridin'; which will resume when I get home, and hangin' out in a nice, peaceful settin' like on the verandah, in front of the lit fireplace, or in the kitchen with a cup and kettle of tay, with or without my loves. I also like snugglin' with cats, though that too will have to wait.
I used to love to write. It doesn't seem to be in me anymore. Maybe it'll come back, maybe it won't. Oh, and occasionally I'll pick up the guitar, but I haven't written any music in forever, and I play mostly old Irish folk, but that's only a couple of times a month, these days. Nothin' to dwell on.
That's all I can think of. Oh, and rockin' out once in a blue moon can be fun, but the occasion rarely presents itself with my schedule.
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