BlogALog

BLOG-A-LOG

zeitgeisty

age:

	Old hound

location:

	Somewhere on the isle of Manhattan...

looking for :

	A shining good deed in a weary world...

more about me:

	I'm a pip. I'm quick with a joke or a light up your smoke... I'm a port in a storm.. I'm a card, and I always straight deal, bottom line I'm aces... I'm quite dapper.. I know how to do the Cosby dance... Simply put, and in conclusion, I'm quite a catch, or catch-22, (depending on your perspective) and I've got a heart of gold (without being a hooker).. Pleased to meet you.

7.515

Other Hooksexup Blogs:

The FINAL blog a log
8/23/2008 9:57:11 AM

Thanks again to anyone I left out... char,kpeck,vix, etc...

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what's a gal to do?
8/21/2008 12:43:37 PM

Recently I received an e-mail from a friend of mine who asked me to help out with her new profile for Hooksexup. She'd been on it a few months ago, but had taken a break as she'd gotten sort of serious with someone - which unfortunately didn't pan out all too satisfactorily. I readily accepted the challenge and offered up a pithy little bio highlighting her glorious attributes, infusing the prose with just a delicate hint of implied sauciness - to keep the swingin' dicks out there intrigued.

After a week or so, she'd gotten some replies - none of which she felt truly excited about. I then suggested perhaps she should post a different photo which showed off her cans better. She followed my salient advice and consequently got a bunch of guys merely interested in riding the hobby horse. After a couple of more weeks, she's starting to find it all more than a tad wearisome.

I've heard pretty much the same story from other friends of mine partaking in the online dating game.Seems a gal can never win. If you have a thoughtful, intelligent profile, with a bit of wit and nuance, you're seen as an un-sexy jokester. If you've got your tits hanging out on display, you're a skanky whore just looking for an available rod. It makes you wonder...

How exactly DOES an eligible woman find love via the internet?

It seems to me men have the advantage here. All they really require is a profile in which they don't come off like a complete douchebag, and usually they'll do alright. WIth women, it's a tad trickier - especially if they have a brain. I think men in general are intimidated by women that come off smarter than they are. It gets them all defensive, and shrivels their 'nads to Lilliputian proportions.

Personally, I must say with all honesty, when I was looking online for love I always scanned the photos for any signs of significant breast-age. I figured as long as they had THAT in place, everything else was icing on the cake. I suppose this firmly plants me in the douchebag category. Still, I'm no monument to justice!! The cock wants what it wants!!

So what's a poor gal to do?

Well I supopse there ARE a few guidelines I could empart which might be useful for the ladies out there online and hungry for l'amour...

1) Be complimentary but not OVERLY so..

ex.

DO say something like:

'I really enjoy how you turn a phrase. No one's ever quite explained the basic laws of Newtonian physics in such an entertaining fashion'

DON'T say something like:

'I slathered in my panties when I saw your tight jeans and bulging man snake - wanna fuck?'

...men might get the wrong impression there.

2)In your photo, wear clothing which shows off your breasts in a NON-overt way. It shouldn't appear as if you've taken the shot to specifically show off your tits. It comes off as desperate. However, you SHOULD tactfully portray your body in as flattering a light as you can.

3)DON'T fill up the 'books I've read' section with a library of Calvino, Frantzen, or that Middlesex book...men don't read, and find literate women boring and uppity.

4) DON'T go on about how much you love your job and how you have a very small amount of free time to spend on dating. If you don't have the time, buy a vibrator and shut the fuck up.

5) DON'T mention your hobbies. Men find women with a lot of hobbies sad, and besides it just takes the focus off them.

So there you have it! If you follow these guidelines correctly, I gurantee you success in your future online endeavours. Just make sure to invite me to the weddings!

Now, for those of you that might say my tips are shallow and insensitive - I accept your condemnation. Unfortunately the world is a shallow and insensitive place. Sometimes you have to get lost in the thorny brambles in order to find the elusive unicorn.

To all my friends out there I say, 'keep trying!!'. I mean, look at me, I'm a total asshole and even I managed to trick someone into liking me! So fret not, with each new day hope springs eternal, someday you too might capture the unicorn, and if you don’t, it’s really no big deal there are still plenty of available jackasses to choose from.

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New dating blog up soon...
8/20/2008 2:32:39 PM

Just wanted to let everyone know that the new blog will be up soon... a few days I'm told.

It's set up to be more interactive between YOU the reader and the bloggers.

More info... It's meant to be a companion blog to the 'Dating Confessions' section. We the bloggers will be commenting on the 'dating confession' of the day in addition to our own personal reflections on dating/sex/relationships/etc...

So far there are 3 bloggers - myself included.

I will keep you informed as to the exact day it goes live..

that is all.

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Race in america...
8/19/2008 12:07:23 PM

It seems lately a lot of Democrats have been starting to sweat some serious bullets over whether or not Obama will be able to pull off a victory against McCain this fall. The fact that he hasn’t been able to make any sort of headway against this flip-flopping, withered crypt keeper with a ‘my friends’ tourettes-ian tic, has all of a sudden sent them into a nervous, defensive posture, clutching their lower stomachs in order to stave off an anxious bowel movement. Well, it’s not like I didn’t say ‘I told you so’. As I’ve shouted from the rooftops for months, we are not living in some Utopian state, this is America and one thing you can never underestimate is our level of ignorance and deep seated fear of black people.

From the beginning I’ve said that right off the bat you’d have to remove a solid percentage of racist voters that just would never under any circumstance vote for a black guy. Now, I will speak the truth and go further… In addition to the ‘obviously racist’ you will have to include a lot of supposedly elevated, non-racists that are just ‘uneasy’ with the idea.

This cannot be ignored.

Now I know some of you will disagree with righteous vehemence, whining in your fey politically correct timbre that I don’t know what I’m talking about, but you see - I actually do.

In my life I’ve dated about six different black women, and I can tell you in EACH relationship, I encountered again and again, OVERT racism, anger, and resentment from the general public – not to mention the negative reaction of a lot of white girlfriends I’ve had upon learning I’ve dated black chicks.

America is schizo when it comes to blacks. They love em’ on the field, courts, movie screen… they love listening to their music and imitating them – in a completely nauseatingly corny fashion. It’s always been this way. Still, it’s a sickly love. It’s a surface performing monkey kind of love, and what’s at the core is shame, anxiety, anger, resentment, bitterness and most of all FEAR.

I recall being on a date with this statuesque, caramel skinned, empirically striking looking woman. We were walking down the street after seeing ‘The man who walked up a hill and came down a mountain’ – one of the most boring films I’ve ever seen in my life – when all of a sudden this seemingly normal looking white guy in his 40s got in our face with a crazed expression yelling at me ‘YOU OUTTA BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF!!!... IT’S DISGUSTING!!!’. I was shocked – dumbfounded.

It was disgusting to go out with this nice girl of unimpeachable pulchritude?

It would be one thing if that was an isolated incident, but astonishingly enough, it was par for the course. Everytime I’d walk down the street with one of my black girlfriends, I’d get the evil eyes, whispers, and pointing – like I was the elephant man or something.

May I point out for one moment that this was in NEW YORK CITY?

I mean, we’re not talking some bumfucking, Dixieland, Conway Twitty listening, hick, town borne of incest and beastiality.

Worse than this however, were some of the reactions I’ve gotten from the white girls I’ve dated.

One Duke University graduate told me upon hearing I lost my virginity to a black girl…

‘eww.. you’re disgusting. Was her bush as nappy as her head?

When discovering my stash of porn, another girl said..

‘My baby got back?? I think I’m going to puke.. black girls are so ugly.. gross’

Again.. these are New York women. Educated, supposedly elevated, Manhattan-ites.

When you think about all of this, the idea that America will cast its vote with Obama just seems more and more remote. To me, it feels like he’s starting to fade, almost as if for a second, people got caught up in the media frenzy, and now have woken up next to a black man…. and they’re afraid.

This is what’s always haunted me about America.

Personally, I’ve always felt an innate connection to black people, and in general the ‘black experience’ in America. Maybe it was my ‘outsider’ status growing up, or the parallel ‘Jewish’ experience that was part of my heritage, or the fact that I was a musician that deeply loved so many of their great artists. Whatever the reason, I always felt this strong kinship. Now mind you, I’m human, and everyone has innate trepidation when it comes to ‘the other’, but I’m no racist.

That being said I’m also a realist, and I don’t feel Americans have come all that far in these past 40 years. We’re still the same shit kickers we always were. What people keep failing to realize, is that although the major media resides on both coasts, there’s the states in-between, and those are the ones that will be voting.

I hope I’m wrong… for many reasons.

Mainly, if we vote in McCain our hatred of blacks will be exposed to the world like a cockroach in the naked electric light. Our standing in this new world order is already tenuous, and a McCain win would just cement the fact that we've become a major fucking joke.

Now, I don’t like Obama… this is true. I find him grating, and the way he ‘ahhhhhs’ in between every word of his pontifications drives me nuts. I also find him an elitist, and the way his campaign ran against Hillary was shameful. That being said, the choice between him and McCain is a no-brainer. Anyone voting for McCain to me would be suspect of being a racist.

Do I think Obama has a chance at all?

I'm very dubious... I know America.

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Blog-a-log souvenirs...
8/15/2008 11:53:04 AM

So as the blog-a-log is soon to be over, Mlle. Mud thought it might be a good idea to make some souvenirs available via my own Zeitgeisty chotchki store...

I heartily agreed and immediately took to the task of creating some art. Eventually we came up with this delightful array of blog-a-log momentos culled from some of my most memorable quotes!

So, pick up your zeitgeisty chotchki today, and even though the blog-a-log may be over, you can always look at your trinket and think of me....

buy unique gifts at Zazzle

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Ahhh.. internet dating..
8/14/2008 2:15:02 PM

Was looking through some old blogs from a couple of years back, and came across this one. Ahhhh... Internet dating, how I miss it....
-------------------------------------------------

Is there anything more annoying than being ‘rejected’ by someone you had no designs on, or interest in whatsoever?? There was this chick that wrote to me on Hooksexup a ways back, and then again more recently. I had no interest in her physically, but she did seem very funny, and I thought she might be an interesting person to know. A few months ago, I thought it might be inappropriate to meet (even just as friends), as I was involved, so I blew her off. Recently I heard from her again, so I decided to meet for the hell of it…

The night we were supposed to meet I had a stomach situation. I had been eating a lot of grape nuts the past few days, and it was coming home to roost… I had been on the can all day… I was amazing myself with the sheer mass and weight of these dumps I was taking. I mean they were the mount mckinley of dumps. There were tiny mountain climbers swarming on these things and clouds swirling around the summit.

This was an evacuation that comes along only a few times in a life…

So anyway, I’m not feeling well, and I was seriously considering canceling, but I had already blew her off months ago, so I felt bad about it. Right there I broke my cardinal rule - NEVER feel bad about anything when it comes to women. So I hop in a cab, and head downtown, straining to contain any residual mud that might be still up my colon. If I had a dollar for everytime I’ve been in the back of a taxi cab clenching my cheeks, I’d be a millionaire.

I get there, we meet and it’s pretty stiff - and no I don't mean my cock! I immediately realize that I’m not interested in even KNOWING this person, just another self-obsessed female ‘comedian’. I will admit that her stuff is funnier than most women ‘comedians’ I’ve seen though - that I will admit. Still, in general, it seems like ‘comedian’ is the go-to profession for every insecure, looks obsessed, narcissist NY female, who wasn’t born with any particular talent other than the ability to shmooze and show her ass. Bottom line, I would have rather been home shitting. In fact I think that should be a slogan on a bumper sticker...

‘I’d rather be shitting’

Anyway, cut to the chase, I’m not interested at all, I’m bored and my anus hurts.

All of a sudden she says, ‘So what are you doing this weekend?’

With this expectant tone, like she wanted to hang out again.

To be nice I say, ‘Oh I’m not sure, I’ll let you know’

..Something to that extent, non-commital, whatever…

So a couple of days pass by, and again to be nice I send her a note saying, 'nice to meet you, I’ll let you know about the weekend' or something like that…

I had honestly totally forgotten about it, when days later, she sends me this totally annoying note saying…’ yeah, you were cute and sweet, but I don’t want to pursue this anymore, as we don’t have much in common’

... or something to that effect...

This is coming from someone I had no INTENTION of getting involved with on any level, no interest, or attraction. It’s just such a typical story… It only reminds me, never try to be nice.

I’d rather be shitting...

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The top 200 songs of the 1970s... fixed the link!
8/14/2008 9:48:15 AM

Sorry!!! I fucked up the link... here it is the top 200 songs of the 1970s.... For your listening pleasure.

we've got 180-171 up right now!!

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Some facts you may not know about me...
8/13/2008 12:29:48 PM

Things you may not know about me….

I used to have a stuffed Snoopy when I was 11 – I called him ‘Mate’ and he talked with a cockney accent.
I believed in Santa Claus ‘til I was 14.
The first album I ever got was ‘The Stranger’ by Billy Joel.
I’ve never been to England, but I kinda like the Beatles.
The first time I’d ever been to Williamsburg was 4 years ago.
I actually really love the Beatles.
I lived briefly in a rented house with my band at the time – Spire Cranes – directly across the street from Rockland Psychiatric Center, in the summer we left the door open, and the day pass crazies would just wander into our living room.
I have an impressive collection of bellbottoms and saddle shoes.
When I was 8 years old I puked up New England Clam chowder I ate at Dunkin’ Donuts and to this day I still hate both New England Clam chowder and Dunkin’ Donuts.
I went to the YMCA every night with my father when he got home from work, from 1980-1982, then we stopped going because of the AIDS.
I think the best hot dog in NYC is the 72nd Street Gray’s Papaya.
I’m a registered democrat.
This might be the first year I don’t vote in a presidential election.
I hate people that list Pabst Blue Ribbon as their favorite beer.
I hate people that like things ‘ironically’.
I hate people.
At the beginning of the summer of my 16th year, I was 4 foot 11 inches tall and 196 pounds, by the winter I was 5 foot 7 and 118 pounds.
I didn’t stop growing until I was 22 years old where I topped out at 6 foot tall.
I had no real facial hair until I was 22.
In the 4th grade I had a huge crush on Jill Bloom, one time on the line for the bus she spoke to me!! – to ask me if Luke Freeley still liked her. I can still feel that pain.
Jill Bloom is a cunt.
Secretly I still think I’m gonna make my mark.
For one year in college every day I’d steal a pack of tic-tacs off the lunch line.
I hate tic tacs – always have.
Women with big tits and hairy arm pits are really angels from heaven sent down here to steal all my cheese.
I believe porn, the lottery, and religion are all the same thing.
I’ve read all the Hardy Boy books.
That doesn’t make me a queer.

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top 200 songs of the 1970s...
8/12/2008 11:52:03 AM

We did the 90s, then the 80s... now check out the top 200 songs of the 1970s over at Walrus Comix...

we've got 180-171 up right now!!

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Is it live or is it memorex?
8/12/2008 10:59:32 AM

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I want my $2....
8/11/2008 12:08:09 PM

This past weekend was uncharacteristically filled with activity.

Friday the mudflapper and I went downtown to see my friend’s Pink Floyd cover band ‘Us and Not Them’ at Ace of Clubs on Great Jones Street. This place used to be called ‘Under Acme’ -as it’s beneath Acme restaurant – and it’s a place I myself have played many a time back in the 90s. I’ll always associate it with this gig I played there back in 1994 when in the middle of the proceedings, the whole O.J., white bronco on the freeway deal broke out on the TV. The singer from the band that was on at the time kept yelling – ‘RUN, OJ RUN!’.

Jeezus… might as well be a million years ago.

Before Us and Not Them took the stage, there was this other Zeppelin cover band called ‘Led Blimpies’. I have to say, both bands were pretty decent. I’ve seen a few different Zep and Floyd cover bands in my time, and I’d rank these two amongst the best I’ve seen. That’s not to say they were ‘dead on’, but both were exceedingly competent, and put on a good show. Cover bands in general leave me pretty cold, but for Zeppelin and Floyd, they seem to work sometimes. For instance, I fucking HATE Beatles cover bands, even if they’re technically good. I just don’t see any point whatsoever in a Beatles cover band. Their music to me just doesn’t seem to be conducive to that whole cover band gestalt.

Saturday was just one of those unique days where the clouds lift, and you’re struck with an unexpected lucidity. One of those days that you remember, and moreover, you understand that you will remember it as it’s happening. Unfortunately, all this clarity is heartbreakingly temporary, and soon the anxiety, self-doubt, and meaninglessness of it all starts to seep back into you consciousness, polluting your soul with it’s toxic sludge. Still, it was beautiful while it lasted.

For a few precious moments I felt at peace.

Things I’m still waiting on:

More info on the re-furbished blog-a-log
Your questions, comments for my final blog
World peace
Adam Sandler’s slow and painful death
Something good to watch at 3:47 in the morning
My $2

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Friday factoid..
8/8/2008 2:37:44 PM

If you average it all out to about 3 times a week... I've whacked off around 3888 times in my life.

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For my final blog...at blog-a-log.
8/7/2008 3:52:26 PM

I've been trying to put together a farewell video for the blog-a-log, but it's coming up short.. So I've got a new idea.

I want you all to come up with questions for me, or statements you'd like me to read, and I will answer them all or relay your messages in my final video.. perhaps I'll even sing a tune, or strip naked, you'll have to tune in to find out...

So bring on the questions, I will answer them all with complete honesty.

truth is beauty - beauty truth.

If you prefer to e-mail me privately, you can do so at

[email protected]

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The future's so bright...
8/7/2008 1:48:01 PM

The mudflap was in a bummer mood last night. She's been trying to be pro-active as far as her photography is concerned, trying to find some way to get it out to the public, and perhaps even make a couple of bucks in the process. Every once in awhile she gets discouraged, and struggles with the 'whole point of it all'. I suppose every artist struggles with that. I told her there's really no point to ANYTHING, down the line. Still, when you see Paris Hilton making the news for 3 days straight because because of that lame-ass video she made mocking McCain, and how she's being praised on CNN for doing it all by.... GASP... memory! and only in 4 takes!! Oh my god!! She didn't need cue cards!!.. This is headline stuff...

Well yeah.. nowadays life can get you down.

I keep telling her to just continue making art for art's sake, 'cause in the end everyone's got their own road to hoe, and most people's heads are so far up their own asses all they can see is yesterday's lunch.

Anyway, we spent a week together on vacation, not really doing a hell of a lot. However, we did manage to make it to Asbury Park one day, and she took a bunch of shots I really dig, so fuck it I'll put em' up.

The last one's for ALWAYSAONE....

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Anger management...
8/6/2008 11:46:05 AM

When it comes to medical questions, I’ve generally found that one of two responses usually clears up most matters:

#1 – “It’s just gas!”
#2 – “Put some hydrogen peroxide on it.”

Things aren’t quite as clear cut when it comes to matters of the heart.

Steering a relationship is much like driving a car, as you drive down the highway of life, you must constantly make these nearly imperceptible corrections at the wheel. Eventually the culmination of all this invisible navigation will get you where you need to go.

Lately I’ve been trying to work on some anger management.

Growing up, my parents constantly fought. It was quite a conflicted household. If they weren’t fighting with each other or my brother and I, then they were embroigled in some boisterous palarva with my grandparents. If it wasn’t with any of us, then it was probably with a waitress at the local diner – usually involving the unacceptable temperature of the soup of the day. You see, my parents enjoyed a hot soup – very hot…SUPER NOVA hot. In fact, if they were ever served up a broth boiling at anything less than the heat index of the surface of the sun, it would send them into fits of apoplexy.

As a result I’ve pretty much avoided soups all my life – but I digress.

Out of all this turmoil, I’ve been left with a quick temper that just leaps out inappropriately the second I feel frustrated. It’s been a major bone of contention with practically anyone I’ve ever gone out with – the mudflapper being no exception.

The other day the mudpacker broke down and bawled to me that she couldn’t take any more of my yelling. The girl was visibly upset… I felt horribly. She doesn’t deserve to take the brunt of all my pent up ire. So I’m making an effort, seriously giving it a go, taking a breath and counting to ten. I’m not gonna lie, sometimes it’s tough. It’s modifying an intrinsic behavior. My response to most anything is to get angry. On top of everything, I have a naturally loud voice which makes me sound angry when I’m not, and angrier than I am, when I am in fact angry.

Still, yelling at the mudskipper is sort of like yelling at a helpless kitten, it tears your heart out – unless of course that kitten is being a total asshole…fucking kitten.

Deep breath…

I”ve still got some work to do.

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Phantoms...
8/5/2008 12:50:57 PM

The other day the mudflapper was asking me about all the women I’ve known in the ‘biblical sense’.

‘So just how many HAVE you been with? Be honest!’

‘22’

‘Really?? That seems a bit high…I don't believe it!’

‘Well, it's not so high for a man of my advanced years.. ’

She wondered whether I could actually remember them all. As 22 isn’t exactly what I would call a lofty number, I scoffed…

‘What are you talking about? I remember them all very well! I can even give you the list and describe the nature of each relationship.’

So I began the recounting, but mysteriously I could only recall 18. I searched deep into my brain-al recesses and double backed a few times, but I couldn’t come up with the other 4. After a while I wondered whether or not I had ‘padded’ my number. Perhaps I had actually only been with 18.

It was all a bit disconcerting.

Later that night I sat down at the computer to come up with a list, maybe writing it down would jog my memory.

Shaniqua
Danielle
Tina
Holly
Boshra
Adina
Nicole
Melissa
Colleen
Laura
Jen
Lilli
Julie S
Priya
Cristi
Amy
Lyssa
Mudflap

Jesus… How would I remember Adina, and not remember the other 4? I only slept with her once, and I barely dated her. It was completely an inconsequential relationship. Albeit, over the years I must say I’ve always made a specific POINT of remembering her as I didn’t want to forget her if ever I was to come up with a list such as this.

I gave up the search and went to bed.

The next day the other 4 popped into my head! One was a ‘certain ex-blog-a-logger’, another was the girl that told me she’d rather stick a knife in her eye then ever speak to me again, some other was this girl that I’d recently gotten an e-mail from stating that she’d married some extremely rich Nordic God, and the final one was this chick who possibly was the most irritating person I’ve ever met.

Half of me was relieved that I hadn’t made that number up in my head, and the other half was a bit disappointed. For a couple of days, I had felt a tad purer.

After remembering these ‘lost women’, it didn’t really surprise me that I had subconsciously erased them from my thoughts. A couple of them were just very brief and meaningless flings, and the others were highly contentious. It’s funny how the mind works sometimes. To tell the truth, all of these women are phantoms in some sense. I mean think about it, over the years you meet people, hang out, perform excruciatingly intimate acts on each other, and in the end separate and become the most estranged of strangers.

Phantoms.

It’s almost as if none of them even exist anymore… Well they don’t really, at least not in my reality.

Of course, there may be an exception or 2 in there, the ones I still receive an e-mail from once in a blue moon, but generally I’m as connected to them as I am to a random body on the street.

It’s strange when you think about it.

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The Watcher...
8/4/2008 10:57:56 AM

I’m a people watcher, I’ve always been. Growing up, my mother was constantly telling me, ‘Don’t STARE!’, harshly jolting me back from my transfixion. Nowadays, I’m more subtle - I ‘observe’.

I have many spots about town I enjoy to sit back with a coffee and soak in the humanity – Mud on 9th street, Starbucks on 60th, Café Pick Me up on Avenue A… What I’ve noticed is how similar most people are. There’s no clearer evidence of this overarching sameness than the cellphone conversation. I swear, next time you pass by someone chattering on their cell, listen in and I guarantee you the conversation will be about RELATIONSHIPS. Either it will be about theirs, or a friends, or a friend of a friend – apparently this is all anyone talks about.

The other day at Mud I heard a funny snippet…

‘Yeah.. it was weird, when I talked to Amanda about her new boyfriend Gary… She said he was SICK, then I lost the signal and was left wondering whether she meant physically or mentally!’

For the rest of the day, I wondered what the hell was up with Gary.

I just find it interesting that while the world is literally collapsing around our ears, it’s still ‘boy meets girl’ that consumes us all.

Personally, I hate to talk on the phone, so I just play the part of the outsider listening in. To tell the truth, I don’t really spend to much time expounding on the subject of relationships – outside of this blog of course - as I rather find it a mundane topic. For instance, last night I hung out with some friends, and we spent over an hour discussing quantum physics, schrodinger’s cat, string theory, and whether or not the moon landing was real.

I can barely add 2 plus 2.

It just illustrates how I’d rather talk about ANYTHING than relationships. Well, that’s not really true, I’ll gladly talk about OTHER people’s relationships, as I’m a bit of a gossip. Let me in on some drama, preferably involving some sort of deviance of the sexual variety, and I’m a happy camper.

On other fronts, as you may have surmised Blog-a-log is going to undergo a metamorphosis of sorts, the likes of which I can’t divulge right now – until I get the OK. I will be there to get it up on it’s feet and hopefully we’ll all enjoy the change.

Change is good.

I’m so desperate for new experience, I just told a friend the other day, I almost enjoyed getting my tooth pulled as I’d never had one pulled before.

Hang in there everyone…

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