Plan for tomorrow: more family stuff bike ride if it’s not winter writing reading eating

In the last 17.3 minutes, you have aged 17.3 minutes, even though it may feel like 32.7.

My sense of humor is at about 40% of normal up from 20%. The Dark Times did a number on it. The Grey Times are stifling it.

I’m not sure what it is. They say it’s triple chocolate.

Tomorrow is/will be Friday. Remember to pay the ferryman.

I’m just relaxing and doing the usual mind-dump free-writing.

Be happy you are here. Most aren’t. #life

If you live to fulfill a single goal, you will be disappointed. If you succeed, you will have nothing to live for. #life #failure

She stared at the body spasming on the floor. “I got dressed up for this? If I’d known you were going to take me out just to die, I’d have just worn my jeans.” #writing #character

If you’re a fascist and you don’t know it, raise your hand.

“There are a million stories in the cities.” At least two million in the ‘burbs. You just have to pay attention. #writing

Overheard: “I do all the furniture in the store.” I’m not touching that line.

“We all have something to lose. What matters is whether you care to lose it.” #writing

When did looking like one of the Smith Brothers become a trend?

“Ok. Spill it. Who were you stalking?” “I don’t stalk people. I’d never stalk people. I’m a stemmer.” “Stemmer? What’s that?”” “I teach Botany at the high school.” #writing #throwawayline

Time is a constant.

A Love Story “I’m going to the bathroom.” “I’ll wait for you.” “I’m not coming back.” #writing

A single person can change the world—for better or worse. Which one will you be? #life

If you could, which one dead person would you like to meet? Maybe I could arrange it. #writing

We’re never as intelligent as we think we are. We’re never as good-looking as we believe we are. We’re never as rich as we want to be. We’re never as powerful as the next guy. The good news is, we never live forever. #writing

“Where do you go when you need a body–preferably a dead one?” #writing

Lumberjack

I sit down at the bar and a guy who could be Waldo, from Where is that Damned Waldo–but in blue instead of red–starts talking a mile a minute. He tells his life story in about 10 minutes–he’s a lumberjack from Wyoming who moved to Atlanta. Now he’s in PA to be close to the trees. I can’t make this …

Family stuff done. Now I need to consider where to eat lunch/dinner.

Woot! #phillyete videos are up. I know what I’ll be doing this weekend. Watching what I missed.

It’s a cold day in PA. It’s so windy the pigs are flying.