Alabama, Arkansas, I Do Love My Ma And Pa.

So, I had a moment towards the end of my workday when I looked around at my co-workers, and realized that the majority of people who were there all had something in common, something that kind of bonded us in this weird way briefly, so I had to be an asshole and say out loud: "Is it just me, or is everyone here having the shittiest life possible at this moment?" See, I was surrounded by dour angry faces, and everyone's voices were sharp and full of expletives, and there seemed to be a lot of throwing things and slow shakes of the head and mutterings under the breath, and for the first time in a while, IT WASN'T JUST ME.

And it felt good; not that I wanted my friends to be feeling this way, but for a moment, we were all unhappy together, and I had to kinda laugh at it, and there's tonnes of cliches that could fit this moment (misery loves company, a trouble shared is a trouble halved, etc.), but none could really do it justice, and it sounds screwy, but it just makes me wanna say that if, right now, you yourself are feeling like everything is upside down and unsafe and just generally bad: so am I. So are a lot of people. Hopefully knowing this helps. Hopefully you'll have one of those moments like at the end of I Heart Huckabees where whatsisname finally sees that in whosits moment of suffering that the two characters are exactly alike, and hopefully you can gain some sort of footing to help you on your way. I mean, you still might have to go into a back room once and a while and punch the wall until you see straight again, but maybe not so often.

Of course, one of them had to go and ruin my moment by saying, "Actually, I'm doing pretty good right now.", at which point I replied, "Fuck you, Jeffrey Storey."

No, not really; I'd never say that to Jeffrey Storey. Jeff's a handsome man with a great head of hair who is one of the most honest and kind men I've ever met, and to say something like that to him would be to call down the thunder onto one's self, and I'm not THAT self-destructive.

A few more things:

1. One of the creepiest games I've ever played, and it's an internet flash game.

2. One day I will go to ALL of these places. I will take my daughter, and we will make postcards for everyone we love that say, "Wish you were here at Hell's Half Acre At Wyoming!" Until then, I will look at this website and drool.

3. What It's Like To Really Work In A Music Store.

Can I start doing this at MY job?

And while I'm out here saying stupid shit and wearing my heart on my sleeve, here's this: this goes out to that person I'm having the most issues with. Despite the weird awkwardness and confusion and hurt and anger and resentment and sadness and eventual depression and christ-on-a-fucking-crutch bullshit that we're bound to put each other through for the rest of our lives, this has everything I want to say to you, and it took a bunch of fucking hippies to make me see it. So fuck it: here you are.

And now I'm gonna hit the 'publish post' button before I think better of this and chicken out, and then go make sure the Little Miss's breakfast is ready for the morning. Be good to each other, or I'll smack you upside the head, jerks.