now is the time on “sprockets” when we sing the praises of cabernet sauvignon, books about dirty tricks brigades, and my favorite pink floyd album.

i’m not drunk if i can still operate vi. (emacs? please. practically wysiwyg!) of course, operating vi may be considered after all this time merely a reflex, and not a skill, and therefore not an accurate gauge of drunkeness—

—but i really feel that my ability to still spell ‘gauge’⁰ and type out — must count for something! i mean, ampersands are hard! plus, i still have to chmod 644 this sucker!

oh, also — it’s time for another $2 martini night run; i really feel the need for booze and delicious baked brie. strega nona, this wednesday, anyone? email me or text me if you’re in. just remember, if you’re not in, i’ll be alone at the bar with my blue-cheese olive dirty vodka martinis and that will be SAD, even if the bartender is a cutie-pie and gives me extra olives gratis!

who was born in a house full of pain
who was trained not to spit in the fan
who was told what to do by the man
who was broken by trained personnel
who was fitted with collar and chain
who was given a pat on the back
who was breaking away from the pack
who was only a stranger at home
who was ground down in the end
who was found dead on the phone
who was dragged down by the stone.

— 
0 – not “gage,” love; “gage” is for those who are too lazy to remember the “u”!