I got back from the homestead in Connecticut at around 10:30. By 11 a.m. my dad found the hookah, the weed bowl, the "Man, I'm starving" drawer and my mom found about 30 alcohol bottles. And then they left. And I miss them very much.
So, long story short.
I feel like a fat kid being caught eating a candy bar at a Fat Farm.
And then I was welcomed home by two of my friends creeping out after my parents left, much like the Munchkins appeared to Dorothy after she rid them of the Wicked Witch of the East. Both examples deal with authority, so I think it is an apropos analogy.
I have mounds of organizing to do. And hopefully catch up on Rolling Stone, and smoking. And then begin my month's painting.
What an odd entry, huh? Jesus Christ, I think sometimes I like writing to no one better than anything else in the world.
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