When there's nothing to say, sing.

The Trip Planning Committee has expanded the number of our party to five. That’s right: we’re a resurrected Fox young adult soap from the 90’s. Much drama will ensue, we’ll have some revelations, a lot of laughing and realizing that we really, really need each other, and then there will come the moment when we have to pack it all up and leave, realizing that each moment in life is fleeting and we must take it all for what it is. Next, look for me in a horror movie franchise! Ok, geek time. For those so disinclined, be blind. I awoke on Saturday at about 6:30 am, and started watching some Battlestar Galactica episodes, eight of them. This still allowed us to get the day going before noon, so win-win. A.A. was coming down to visit, which was fun, but the whole day had been so draining (there was some actual going out that did happen) and so much drinking that we never made it outside that night. No big loss, though we also didn’t get around to watching “Deep Throat,” the Linda Lovelace classic UglyAgnes won during Sex Toy Bingo last week. There’s always tomorrow. I feel like I missed an opportunity to buy a lot of 60’s pulp sci-fi while we were in North Addams as there was a good used bookstore tucked away out there, but I didn’t feel like shopping. Now I’m reviewing a list of reviews and finding a few good books I’d like to read. I should probably find a library that’s falling apart with a good paperback selection of books from the mid-60’s through the early 80’s, which is the beset period of time to find a decent pulp fiction book with a good piece of cover art. I feel like the quality of the artwork is directly correlated to my eventual enjoyment of the book. I’m not ready for what the week will bring, so I’m going to hide behind the veil of superiority that protects me from the thin nerve sheath of reality. The wolves of daring, the paucity of decency, and the froth of a bad coffee drinks: I feel like sleeping.