I just got fishnished putting on the Plastic Coating on my windows on for Winter-time (which is here right now). It's finally freezing out. There is ice on my pathway and I almost did a complete flip coming down the stairway from my Labrador Arts Studio, I was trying to talk on the cell-phone and carry a pizza and a roll of plastic coating for the windows. It's so cold my ears are just starting to warm up again. The tingles and strange heating sensation, forgotten during the warm months, a throw-back to early Spring. I noticed a slight icing, as well on the top of my dark green swimming pool, abandoned for over two years, with the vacuum hose floating on the surface like some thousand-ringed serpentine caught in a sea of slime. On a sad note, besides the vacuum hose, there was also a floating Dead Squirrel. It is too bad to see an arboreal rodent, floating, post mortem. The Dead Sea Squirrel, as it were. I just had another thought, added now, many days after I originally posted the Blog... had there been many dead Squirrels, it could have been called the Dea Squirrel Sea, if an artificial body of swampy water can be called a "Sea". After I put the plastic coating on the windows and pumped hundreds of three-eighths inch staples into window frames already riddled therewith from many winters spent in this Garage Apartment, I unfurrled the proctetive tissue paper from in between the sheets of crystal clear Plastic Coating. The paper-piece floated out into the crispy air and streamed, bright white against the sharp black of late night and seemed to hang there and twitch on occasion as if it, too, were suspended within the jelly-pancake that is LOVE! H*****H!

F$..k this Wheat-O's Minnow Plein-Air! Why do these things always come on and never work? It's like a Wal-Mart item, designed for the lowest common denominator, a trival and useless piece, taking up space, never decomposing, continuing on, ad infinitum (An Odd Infant Item). Pieces, parts and prizes. A friend of mine, who makes his own wine, tried the "Vapir"(do not ask me to tell you what this is, You either know or you do not) for the first time last evening. After that he and his Wife departed from the place where we had been together. They then proceeded to a Musical Programme, "Butterflie's Uncle" or something like that and upon arrival at the Club, became very shy and tried to hide. Now this fellow is very tall, although not necessarily wide. Earlier to-day I discussed this topic with a friend of mine who had heard this news through the usual channels. We quickly came up with an alliteration: he was "Huge, High and Hard to Hide"!

I don't buy into a whole lot of the gimmicks that are there to-day. I'd like to say that I never have, bought into gimmicks, that is, but I think I probably have at one point or several. I admit to having shopped at Walmart before. I mean, it's all so convenient but I can't do it anymore, I just don't think it's healthy for the world, no matter how convenient it may be for me. Most of this stuff I can do without. I can't say whether or not it's right for you. That's something we each have to decide for ourselves. I want quality of life. I do enjoy the finer things. These are simple things. They do not often contain artificial flavors or artificial products. I don't enjoy artificial people. I have had to work very hard to shrug off the shackles of the media mind-control aimed at my brain since birth. It has reached a ridiculous level at this point. It's almost laughable but I can see how it might appeal to some people, by the look of things, maybe even most people. I do not believe any of the advertisments on the tops of these pages, even though by being there, they allow me to enjoy this free service. I love the phrase "no purchase necessary", I think that should be our credo! Of course, I do not think this applies to everything. There are some things worth purchasing. Things which encourage culture and help people to have food and clothes and a roof over their heads which doesn't leak. These purchases can be healing. Money can be used to do some good but it has to be done selflessly. Look at me on my high-horse, like I'm any different than anybody else. I am a child of capitalism. I have experienced retail therapy and it feels so good. I have spent way more money than necessary on standards, on ideals, on love and any fool knows, you can't buy love! I am trying to get used to the fact that day light savings time is over. We have reverted to standard time. I have always been opposed to changing the time. Now it's dark so soon. Is this normal? What would it be like if we didn't spring-foward an hour in April? It makes the day longer, which is really just an illusion. The day is the same length.

I'm sleepy and it's late but I can't bring myself to turn-in. It's very hard for me to voluntarily go to bed. Although it's really uncomfortable, I'd rather fall asleep on the couch right here as I type, instead of going to bed. I've lost all interest in any type of formalized structure in my life. I don't stay up nearly as late as I used to. I usually nod-off around 12:00am at the latest but if I make it past that there is no telling how long I'll be up. It's 12:05am right now and my yawns are getting bigger more all-encompassing by the minute. It's very quite except for a kitty purring on my lap. The Kitty's name is Little My, a Calico Kitten I rescued in the Spring when her head got stuck in the spare-tire holder of my abandoned VW Vanagon, circa 1980 (which is a storage place for all nature of undesired items and some non-undesired ones as well).

This is the pickle that I'm in: I need a brand new blog to keep up with all my In Kin. It's been a long time since I've posted. What once were rolled-oats now are toasted. What's been happening with you? Feel free to mix this mellow stew. Thanks for all of your lovely comments I winter months we all will don mits to keep our fingers nice and warm until the spring when flowers form!

The night sky is so thick with stars, like a cosmic soup, swirling in bands above us. Go to two o'clock and launch, out into the infinite ancient sea of dust, sparkling with madness, wild lights of every color, fire-bursts, thumping tribal drums and wizzing, whilring, spinning things. I like to go all the way to the back, beyond the furthest art-piece, past the lovers in the darkness, the lone peeers and even a solitary robot or two. I see a man in a tall cowboy hat wearing a lacey dress and a girl in a puffy glowing skirt, there's a fine fellow with a Dali Mustache (who reminds me of my Uncle Bunny) and a sucker-fish in pyjammas with a leopard tail and Italian Mask, high atop the forecastle peak, a mad science-tist runs things, Drummy, his curly locks thick with sand in a jump-suit, a naked guy with a beard, a topless girl with glittery tits, a happy dude in furry gleaming white, like the heaven guy, an Art-Chick in punk rock boots riding a tricked-out mad max bike with a 1970s Banana-seat and all those damned Plushies! Cosmic clowns abound and wait they're burning solid fuel which sounds like a jet engine going off. A clipper ship plying a prehistoric ocean, Submarines, rockets with saddles and 4-story jelly fish discos, UFOs, for real! The most inhospitable, habitable place on earth! BRC U Later, Aggliator!

I woke up suddenly. Hanging in a canvas chair. There was a music note played. The blue screen blank. It sounded like a Melodica. Another note did not follow. And I was left to peer into the night and listen between the crickets, which sound like the rain. It stops falling in sheets and they pick up. A sound van far away. I always think I hear gun-shots and turn out all the lights. Grip tightly my big burly walking stick for proctection across my chest and fall asleep to the cacophony. Inside, a tiny kitten bats a closepin across the floor. Her game adds to the din and lulls me as I float an inch or two above the bed. The sweet scent of mold burns my nose and I hold back a barrage of sneezes. They will come like nasal orgasms despite my best efforts. This rotting, rainy summer has turned my sinuses into solid blocks of cemment that not even the most powerful netti pot could clean out. I am no somnambulist, I remain beneath my sheets as I soar skyward. Tiny kitten attacks my feet and I dream.

Right now it's pouring down rain, complete with thunder and lightning. I think it's raining frogs. They are making their sounds as loudly as I've ever heard them. They are really loud this year, the Frogs. I haven't heard them this loud before. The pool is covered and full of rotting leaves. Krekel and I rented a pump with a gas motor to pump out the sludge. They threw in 50 feet of extra hose down at the Rental Center. We only have it until tomorrow, so we have to get pumping! The gale seems to be subsiding somewhat. The rain is drumming against the leaky sky-lights in my kitchen and bath room. The whole ceiling was about to come down in the bath but I taped it up with duct tape. Krekel just came back so I've have to go help him. "I justed want to drop off the equipment!" he said.

I have a great appreciation for all things Aquatic. I have a friend who, as a very small Girl, would dive at night to the bottom of a Glacial Lake (where she spent her summers) in Maine. Inhaling great gulps-full of air and plunging from the dock in a one-piece super swim suit and bright orange aqua-shoes, into the heart of the Earth she dove. She said it was very smooth there and clear but if she carried a light with her and didn't turn it on until she was hovering only a few feet above the muddy, grey expanse, a shit-ton of Eels would rise, rithing toward her. She was fascinated by the Eels. At first they scared her and then she realized they meant her no harm and if she were to turn off the light, they would descend again and disappear into the muck. She let me know about this recently and I am quite glad she did. She also told me about Whale Dairies and Hard Boiling Eggs at 12 Fathoms and how Eels only ever mate in the Sargasso Sea. It's true. Another Eel expert let me know that only Fresh Water Eels are Electric. I wonder where they mate...