Love bought a birdbath, yesterday. It was not the ceramic, uncrackable in the cold, kind that she wanted; it is a concrete one that she and her seventy something year old mother carried from the car to the front lawn of her country home. These two ladies are crazy; a concret birdbath is very heavy, and is not something that a woman with a bad back(Love) and a woman in her seventies(her mother) should be lugging around. I was down here in the city, so don't blame me for not helping with the load.

Love's back is bad, because she went over a cliff, in her Corvette, when she was younger. She wasn't driving, but oh don't alcohol and fast cars go together so well together? Instead of bitching, perhaps Paris Hilton should be praising the Lord that she is not crippled or has not crippled or killed someone else while drinking and driving in her quarter of a million dollar valued car. I wonder if her parents have heavy liability coverage on their daughter? They wouldn't want to lose their hotel chain would they? If she runs over my foot, I'm going to sue and take the chain from the Hiltons and rename it the K Hotel; everything will be free. We'll just party up until we run the mother fucker into the ground. I stayed at the downtown Hilton once. They charged you up the ass, and the place was small as shit. Are the Hiltons cheap?

When we are younger, we don't realize the shit that can happen, as a result of our "partying." People can get maimed. People can die. Parents can lose their homes and every penny in their bank accounts, due to the stupid, or is it irresponsible, behavior of their children?

Anyway, that's the rant for now.

I lusted for some Java Lords, this morning, so I called down there and ordered me a Lazarus(six shots of sweet expresso to start my sunny day with) and a bag of BRAG and a bag of MAD POET. I'm set on the caffeine, for a bit. Call down there and get you some of the best coffee that is available anywhere: 404 477 0921. Java Lords is located in Atlanta. Get them to mail you some MAD POET, if you live elsewhere. It's a bad bean, baby.
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The kid is going to art school, soon. Classes start August 30. He got a nice financial aid packet, but we're still short on the overall cost. I crunched the numbers this morning. We'll pull it off. He better not fucking drop out or start shooting heroin while there. Dig?
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Old Dog Javi has come up a bit limp in his backlegs. These drugs that he is on, make him think that he is SpiderDog. He kills himself chasing that tennis ball down. I'll have to keep him inside for a few days, let the legs rest. Would you rather die doing what you love to do, or would you rather gain a few years of life sitting around bored?
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