Life in the City of Angels: Uttering Brain Farts Out loud


The way we are handling the Coronavirus is proof that we wouldn’t survive a Zombie Apocalypse. But hey!  I had toilet paper but now I’m down to baby wipes.

March made me shiver.

The church bells are broken and the Scamvangelist has stolen the Crown of Thorns.

I have a sense of place for this old restless heart in my cabin in the sky.

My exile soundtrack: Dust in The Wind – Kansas.

Life is not a rehearsal, this is it, this is all we get, so don’t forget to change into clean underwear in the event.

Here I go again, up and down the only path I know.

I feel myself slowly moving East, silence and tranquility filling the voids.

I shut my eyes and try to recall last nights dream. Was it earth and sky or me being naked in class again?

Behind me a lone Mockingbird calls for love and waits. It is all the familiar sounds of my youth.

Venustraphobia, I didn’t know such a word existed.

Loaded for Bear in Big Bear.

She’s the Jewess in Jewess Overalls.

Sometimes when I’m watching the Rose Garden news conference, I think somewhere out there a village is missing its idiot.

I spend most of the day looking where I put my car keys.

I don’t think I’m crazy, but today I’m upset because my imaginary friend Dilbert Cokie is mad at me and won’t talk to me.

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