Kobain, our cat, was waiting at the door when Morisson and Javi and I got home from our week of raking, pulling and planting in the country. Our cat had been on his own since Sunday, when we had headed north to the mountains, and I was glad that he was glad to see us. I took a nap soon after unloading our gear; Kobain jumped on the bed and curled up against my leg for the hour or so that I snoozed. I feel tense today. I think that girlfriend is misunderstanding me. I know that she is under a lot of stress. I think I'm just going to keep my mouth shut, if it is at all fucking possible.

I'm back on the road, again, tomorrow, at nine a.m.. I volunteered to meet Scout's grandmother In Valdosta which is halfway between Atlanta and Mimi's, as we call her, home in Daytona Beach, where Scout and her friend, Sylvia, have been for the last week so that I can cart Scout and Sylvia back; in time for school, har har. I'll leave around nine and so will she. We are going to meet at the first gas station off of exit 16 in Valdosta. We set up a meeting like this in case one or both of our cell phones go on the fritz. I will have Scout's new cell phone with me, tomorrow. Scout lost her old one; my Ghetto PSC won't work all the way down south.

Anyway, that is the boring everyday shit that is going on here. Graem got back from Florida safely. He was about four hours later than he said that he would be. He said that he would be home around four pm. Around six pm I started freaking out. He didn't answer his cell phone, so I tried Grant's phone and then Matt's, his two friends who were riding with him. Neither of their phones worked, either. About an hour later, Thomas, Grant's dad knocked on our door. It was weird(and good) to see Thomas here. In the eight years that we have lived here and that Graem has been real close to Thomas and Grant, Thomas has never dropped by, except to drop Graem off. Anyway, Thomas was freaking out a bit, also. I told him that Graem had just called on Seth's phone and told me they were about an hour away, that traffic sucked. Seth was in the car with them also for the ride back. The four young men showed up just as I was reciting to Thomas how "us parents first get scared, then we get angry." Grant is now almost as tall as his dad. These kids are growing up so fucking fast. I'm getting old and I'm glad as hell that the boys made it back from spring break safe. Graem's mother wondered to me if Graem had been drinking in Florids. I told her that I don't think that that is his thing. "Well, it is mine," she said, jokingly, pulling a twelve pack of bud light out of her car. I'm tired; I'm going to bed. Peace and Love. Peace and Love. Thank You Lord for keeping me and C off of B for another day. Amen.

I'm too tired to edit this. If it's choppy, I apoloze, but I'm heading for the bed. Graem just went by Java Monkey for me and scored me a pound of The Mad Poet bean. I've ground me a pot's worth and I can't wait to be sippin' on it in the am. Good night. God bless.
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I was so tired, tonight, that I forgot to take Morisson for his nightly walk, and it is on that nightly walk that he takes his nightly dump, so, of course, when I heard Morisson farting a little bit earlier tonight, he wasn t just farting; he left the hugest pile of crap that he has ever taken right near my feet. Poor dog. He looked at me with sad eyes like he was going to get in trouble, but I just looked at him and said, "its' my fault Morisson, I forgot to let you out." I said this for my son Graem's benefit, also; he was gagging and running towards the bathroom saying that he was going to puke as I was headed to the kitchen to get the grocery bags and paper towels that I use to clean the floor in such cases. Morisson shitting on the floor in the apartment highlights one of the differences between having a dog in an apartment versus having a dog in an apartment. While we were out in the country, in a house, I could open the door and let my dog out into the yard to poop and then do a poop patrol later to pick it up. Here, at the complex, as in the city, there is a leash law, so I have to accompany my dog when he takes a dump and pick it up right then.

I got out of bed to type up this little bit about Morisson and his crap on the floor, because I considered it essential to humanity to get it down.
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Did Christ rise from the dead tomorrow? I don't know, you don't know; it's pure speculation. If you are putting your money in the Easter basket and handing the basket to the church, I'd think about their motives in indoctrinating you to their belief system.