getting better all the time.

what's the shortest distance between kindness and regret?
i think it might be usage.
wait for it.
the wifey got me a totally kickass treat;
it's all shiny, and coppery, and competely thoughtful.
it is absolutely in keeping with a never quiet, never soft mindstate.
a turbolicious loud and hard brass-blasting barbarian bellow-blower, even.
what?
i'm sayin',
my ol' lady knows her man.
check it out:

uh-huh. that's a flippin' BUGLE!!!!

c'mon, kids.

it's a helluva looker, at that.

and guess what?!

it works.

yep.

there's that distance gettin' eaten up.

usage like a mutha-ucka.

now you get it.

it's the usage of the horny thing that makes the regret set in.

almost instantly.

it turns out,

i don't know how to play a one-note bugle.

but that didn't stop me from elephant-trumpeting through the fortress,

sounding a call to arms,

and riling up the dog.

how did it sound?

like a forty foot long metal butthole cracking ass into a windtunnel.

niiiice.

the good news is that the woodsly goodness

has NOT been invaded by a giant flatulent robot.

the bad news is that i still have this bugle.

six of one, ya'll, etc.

like i said,

my sweet honey knows her man,

but she should've known better than to put a noisemaker

into the hard-style hands of a noise-bringer.

there's been talk already of taking away my new toy.

i think.

i couldn't make out the exact words being spoken over the sweet, sweet sounds

of my signal-the-charge salutes.

there's snow in the mountains,

and warm weather in the hills.

yeah.

i sought the sounds that would summon an avalanche.

it didn't work....yet.

it's so flippin' beautiful here i just sit around being psyched.

so true.

now that the other other leaves in our neighbor's yard are brown and down,

there's a completely facemelting view of cathedral ledge from our tea and toast station.

win.

i'm thinking i may have to serenade the serenity,

and herald the hottness with a bitchin' bugle ballad.

that'll probably shake a few rock climbing crackers loose from their handholds.

you can't plug up your ears with your fingers and crag up some crevices, ya'll.

(it's okay, rock climbers are pretty expendable...

i mean, c'mon. they're climbing up a cliff. so dumb)

anyway,

take it easy.

there are no uruk-hai trying to murder boromir.

it's just me.

in the woods.

tooting my own horn.

as usual;

never quiet, never soft......