and she said.. "how you interpret the dream is probably more important than the dream itself"

Sometimes it's very hard to come and write every day all day and come up with new stuff, but I try. I mean.. Come on.. Hookupster? That's funny stuff.. isnt' it?

Okay, so it's not so funny. But it kept me busy.. and these days it's really all about keeping myself busy.

Kept myself busy this weekend with drinks. Drank a pitcher of PBR and then another, and not because it's hip and trendy but because it's cheap and pretty good, considering, and at the expense of perhaps looking like a hipster poser I drink it anyway. (there really should have been a pbr pounder on that hipster bingo card..)

Then, since my life was certainly nothing to brag about in the ways of partyin' it up of late, on Saturday I rode up the long highway to my friends house and onto the lawn, all s-e-x-x-y in that shit-don't-tip-the-bike-over way, and presented myself at the doorstep. I was shortly presented with a high life.

The thing about Miller High Life is that, as the commercials say, you really do have to be living the High Life to enjoy it.. And if you've seen the commercials, you know the High Life is enjoy a tv dinner in your tighty off-whities. The High Life is sitting on your porch, hands covered in oil, wondering how the hell you're going to get a screw out of your engine block that you accidentally dropped in out of your (flannel) shirt pocket when you were changing the oil.

In this particular chapter of my High Life I sat scratching my bare arms and swatting at the mosquitos on the old porch of an old farmhouse with old paint pealing off it and I caught up with some folks and played a little guitar - gotta love that g,c, and d he said. Moved inside and pet the dog a bit, peed at the edge of the trees and poked at the cat under the table and listened, remotely, to a little music.

On the way back I got dreary, droopy, tired, dreamy. The thrumthrumthrum of the engine lulled me into a semi-concious state and I stared into the night as if staring at nothing at all. The rush of the wind was the only thing chaining me to this world..

and then a june bug hit my helmet. WHAM. Big fuckers, they are.

Sunday was ripe with excitment. I purchased DVDs, I ate out greasy spoon style, I watched movies.. and I even cut my own hair.

The problem with cutting your own hair...

well shit, I'm sure you can figure that one out..

Moving along, I bicycled, I ran, I felt pukey, I felt good. Thing about the exercise - no pain, no gain. Least that's what they tell me, but it's just fine with me because based on the pain at the moment, I'm doing a lot of gain.

All this and I put in a number of hours at the office, too, to help facilitate a up-and-coming trip to the west - to Santa Barbara and isla vista and all it's sandy oceany glory. There is ocean here and there is ocean there, but let me tell you there is a world of difference.

Some crazy Japanese want to build a bridge - a 25 mile long bridge - across the Bering Strait. They want to use the same technology as the bridge from N.S. to P.E.I. and they want to revolutionize trade between North America and the Far East. Sounds pretty nuts, but go for it dudes.. go for it.

Humans are some creative and industrious little fuckers. Space Flight, Interstate Highway Systems, Wall of China, Maignot Line, we've done some crazy shit. Shakespeare, Twain, Chomsky.. we come up with more than you'd think for a few apes with typewriters.

But sometimes..

..sometimes it's not about creating.

..sometimes it's not about being motivated or building or tearing down or working too hard.

..sometimes it's just about living the High Life.

And if there was anything I wanted to do last night it was live the High Life in the back of the State Theatre while I listened to the amazing musicians that are Ween rock out... And maybe I couldn't live the High Life because they only had some IPA and Lager microbrews.. and maybe the girls would have stared a bit if I wore just my tighty (off) whities.. but god damn if those musicians, those Weeners, god damn if they didn't rock out.

Best goddamn show I've seen in awhile.