AWOL

I feel it's winter, finally.

Another weekend completely wasted, frittered away. I could almost feel my brain cells dying, if not for the fact that the brain doesn't have any pain receptors. I need perseverance. By the bucket-load. Yesterday I couldn't decide if I wanted to turn my graphic tablet into a Frisbee or a scratching post. I did neither. I'm sick of these temperatures (and it's not even fucking sub-zero!). Of these gray, bullshit skies. Mud, everywhere. Fucktards firing leftover fireworks. Layered clothing. Fingered gloves. The stench of sweat in trams. Stocking caps. Dog shit on the sidewalk. Each face like a meth-head's mugshot. Three months to go.

New skin, same venom

Why are people celebrating the (arbitrary) coming of the new year? Why is no one mourning the passing of the old one?

Dinner for six, galettes with beef, blue cheese and preserves made from red onions. Just the right number of gibsons. A slow, quiet day.