So... it's the middle of a Saturday afternoon... Should I hang out on the computer in hopes of pleasant or perhaps even enticing conversation or should I go help a friend rebuild his daughter's front porch?
Okay, no-brainer. I'll be heading to Seattle in half an hour to resurrect the porch. Apparently it didn't like the recent weather and almost 90 years of nobody taking care of it. If you're going to live in a house that's that old, take care of the damned place. Old houses are magickal places and even if they're weird, creepy kinds of places, they should still be cared for. If not, they'll be replaced by annoying people-box style condominiums and those really suck.
Done rambling now. Any chance Pfloydd will engage in some animalistic sexual activities this weekend after the nail banging is over? Barring a miracle of near biblical proportion, probably not. Should Pfloydd take a bottle of lube and a pack of condoms just in case? Of course, he's always got his essential supplies because it's rude to meet someone who wants to do the do and then you can't because of lack of latex. (Polyurethane in this case)
So, wish me luck. I'm off to supervise a large number of 17 to 20 year old males all of whom will want to show off their masculine prowess to the women living in the house we're rescuing. Any bets on number of smashed fingers? (I'm laying 7:4 on 12 for the two days)
Off for now. While you're having fun tomorrow, remember me. Think kindly of me as I'm explaining which side of the hammer is used to make the nail go in and which side is used to pull it out. You'll be enjoying life more than I will. Or not...
Friends call begging help.
Not wanting to go.
Imagining a world where there are no such calls.
Realizing that I do want to go.
Friends are rare and few.
People to have sex are abundant.
Helping friends is a way to make the world better... even in the rain.
Okay, no-brainer. I'll be heading to Seattle in half an hour to resurrect the porch. Apparently it didn't like the recent weather and almost 90 years of nobody taking care of it. If you're going to live in a house that's that old, take care of the damned place. Old houses are magickal places and even if they're weird, creepy kinds of places, they should still be cared for. If not, they'll be replaced by annoying people-box style condominiums and those really suck.
Done rambling now. Any chance Pfloydd will engage in some animalistic sexual activities this weekend after the nail banging is over? Barring a miracle of near biblical proportion, probably not. Should Pfloydd take a bottle of lube and a pack of condoms just in case? Of course, he's always got his essential supplies because it's rude to meet someone who wants to do the do and then you can't because of lack of latex. (Polyurethane in this case)
So, wish me luck. I'm off to supervise a large number of 17 to 20 year old males all of whom will want to show off their masculine prowess to the women living in the house we're rescuing. Any bets on number of smashed fingers? (I'm laying 7:4 on 12 for the two days)
Off for now. While you're having fun tomorrow, remember me. Think kindly of me as I'm explaining which side of the hammer is used to make the nail go in and which side is used to pull it out. You'll be enjoying life more than I will. Or not...
Friends call begging help.
Not wanting to go.
Imagining a world where there are no such calls.
Realizing that I do want to go.
Friends are rare and few.
People to have sex are abundant.
Helping friends is a way to make the world better... even in the rain.