back from the dead

so i go into feed the cats today like i do everyday. a little after 12:30, after The Dan Patrick Show and The Box Score go off the air. i open the wood sliding door and who the fuck do i see... Gizmo 2.0. i haven't seen this cat in over 3 months. skinny as fuck and crying like no tomorrow. i couldn't get the food down fast enough. this breaks the record my cat Roscoe used to have for the longest time between appearances. Roscoe came back after 2 months. of course, he was missing a good chunk of his left side and within a week was dead. Gizmo 2.0 didn't have any battle wounds that i could see. but that wasn't the first bit of good news today.

i found out this morning my poem "when insanity meets the evening news" is going to be published in a Norwegian street paper (http://www.klar.as/) in the fall. first time i've ever been published in Norway. the poem was originally published at StrangeRoad.com.

i caught one hell of a wave last night and wrote all 14 poems i needed to write in about 90 minutes. i sent them to my artist friend in Sweden and he loved them. now, it is time to find a publisher.

mom found an internet feed of CBS last night from out of Canada, so i did get to see Big Brother. i laughed my ass off as everyone tried to give Amanda the HOH and she still couldn't win it. there should be some fireworks this week, as the time has finally come to get some good players out.

Wilfred was hilarious as always. any time you can get Dwight Yoakam involved, it's bound to be great. and to watch gag after gag last night was great.

the Yankees are in Boston tonight. i'm not sure how much of that circus i will be watching.

hopefully i will get to bed at a decent hour as the Premier League starts back up tomorrow morning at 7. thankfully Manchester United doesn't play until the afternoon.

i want to give a public thank you to Natascha Hoover for the package she sent me. always nice when you get some unexpected things in the mail. i'll be sure to mail you some things in the coming week. and for everyone reading this with their minds in the gutter, for once you are wrong. a book and some food. some tasty Hawaiian food at that. yummy.

hope everyone has a great weekend. looks like it is going to warm up here a little. maybe into the low 80's. i can't believe these are the dog days of summer. much better than the 90's with humidity like it normally is, i can tell you that.

until we meet again my friends...

music:

Joe Bonamassa - LIVE from nowhere in particular
The Chemical Brothers - Dig Your Own Hole
Little Green Cars - Absolute Zero
Guided By Voices - Class Clown Spots A UFO

like it was going to be anyone else on this day...

"You begin saving the world by saving one man at a time; all else is grandiose romanticism or politics." - Charles Bukowski (August 16, 1920 - March 9, 1994)

a sleepless Sunday

after some shitty sleep, more on that later, woke up to watch Manchester United in Norway. a rare, entertaining 0-0 game. the other team's goalie made some spectacular saves. the team seems to be rounding into a good form. the season starts in less than 2 weeks.

was very nice to actually see the Yankees win a series for a change. a comfortable 6-2 win. decent pitching by Sweaty Freddy, better pitching by the bullpen, some timely hitting and a long homer from Ibanez. next up are the Tigers and Verlander. great.

watched a little bit of the Olympics today but not much. nothing really worth writing about.

my mind has been in a little of a fog since a phone call early this morning (like 2 a.m. early) from my brother from another mother about his newborn son. didn't really know what was up until this afternoon. looks like the kid will be ok (fingers crossed) as the doctors seem to believe they know what's going on. i suppose time will tell. and hopefully he decides 3 is enough.

some Sunday night tv is in order as i've got all the tedious shit i had to for my book sent off. and then, hopefully, sleep.

music today:

Johnny Cash - At Folsom Prison
Kings of Leon - Only By The Night

"Chaos is the score upon which reality is written." - Henry Miller