Picture imperfect.


Please turn that thing off. No... I really do not want to be video'd right now, damn it. No! I'm washing my socks, for chrissake! Who the hell would want to see me doing this, man? Put the freaking camera away!

Whoops. Didn't know anyone was browsing this side of the Web. Hope you're doing well. Bit embarrassing, this, actually. Marvin (my personal robot assistant) recently got his prehensile claws on one of those super-shmeensy video cameras. He says he had to go broke to get it.... he had to go broke the department store window, that is. (Cue laugh track. I said cue it, Marvin! Do I have to do everything?) Anyhow... now Marvin has to video everything, committing our sullen, sordid lives to Quicktime day in and day out. What he's doing with it all I can only guess. Posting it to YouTube? Burying it in a hole in the yard? Feeding it to Big Zamboola? Lawd knows.

While Marvin's been capturing the fascinating sight of me washing socks in a time-honored fashion (using rocks in a nearby stream), our old friend sFshzenKlyrn has been at it again. Still not over the unintended offense I committed last week, he is continuing to rampage through our solar system, acting out his rage on unsuspecting targets... like that touchdown Jesus statue out in the "heartland". Don't think that was an act of God. No, sir... that was an act of sFshzenKlyrn. He's been melting plastic devotional statues since Moses was a pup. (Hey... everybody's got to have a hobby, right?) That's part of what's special about him. That and his specific gravity. (D'oh!)

What else has been going on? Well, a little bit of music making, one might say. There's been some talk of a tour, it's true - another interstellar excursion of indefinite duration and itinerary. Perhaps an inner-earth tour, though the mansized tuber may ask to be excused from that one. (As a root vegetable, he has spent more than enough of his life underground.) I have also heard mutterings about a possible performance in upstate New York, at an area music festival 'round the Mill somewheres. Can't say more at this point. I'll listen a little harder to see if the mutterings are generally in favor or opposed to the suggestion. Then I will amplify them with my trusty typing fingers. From their mouths to your ears - that's my pledge. (I'm just a freaking middle man!)

Okay, well... I've got to get back to my socks. Marvin is now pointing his camera at a snake, so I think I can finish my laundry undisturbed.

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