superflea

I might have her back by the weekend.

There was a lot of stuff to deal with in the past few weeks that has been unbelievably hard. I could steel myself against the scary bits, but I still shatter every time I hold her and she says simply: "I want to go home."

If everything goes well, we're going to fall asleep with our arms around one another, in her bed, on Friday night, and not let go until I have to go to work on Monday.

In other news - I don't care what every music critic on the planet says. The new Helmet record is fucking fantastic.

And here is my smug political shot for the day.

Cheers, kids.