Since the ad on Craigslist said that there would be vinyl records for sale at this swap meet I decided to go. My first 10 seconds of being there I spotted this mirror. For the last 8 months I’ve been mostly inactively looking for a mirror just like this. It’s from this journey that I learned the definition of ‘ornate.’ I nearly pissed my pants when the guy told me he was selling it for $7. Now I have a mirror that is worthy of holding my image like a mirror from the Roman Empire owned by men who held high titles of nobility.
Luckily the mirror cushioned the disappointment that the vinyl records were going to bring. There were about 15 records and 4 of them were Rod Stewart albums and out of those 4, 3 of them were the same album. The downside of Craigslist is that there is no accountability for shitty advertising. I want to talk to your manager!
Go away Coyote! Please go away Coyote? C’mon, just go.
At a near by dog park where there are apparently coyotes there’s also blackberries. It’s not the first time I’ve picked n’ eat blackberries here and every time there’s no one else but me doing it. It didn’t make sense to me that I would be the only one taking advantage of free berries. Primitive tribal wiring kicked in and it made me wonder if I was doing something wrong. Are they poisonous? Is it illegal? Is it frowned upon because of some unwritten rule? Do birds shit on them?
Maybe people are scared of the thorns?
Maybe the terrain is too treacherous?
Don’t worry about her, she’s apparently a descendant of wolves.
Coincidence has led me to accumulate a total of 3 Linda Ronstadt records in a short period of time. Every yard sale or used record store I’ve visited has had one and I pick them up because they are cheap. I’m not even a fan of her music which might not even be an accurate statement since it doesn’t appear she writes any of it.
However, I’ve decided that track 6 from her Greatest Hits album, Long Long Time is the song that I will commit imaginary suicide to. I have no idea what the lyrics are even about, probably about some dude who crapped all over her heart and didn’t have the decency to even light a match.
It just has such a sad sad sound. Unfortunately, by the time they find my dead body the song would have ended because my record player doesn’t have a repeat function. I’ll just be some guy who killed himself instead of the guy who killed himself to Linda Ronstadt’s, Long Long Time. If someone tells you there’s no good use for the repeat function, you’ll know what to tell them next time.
The dog and I took a walk to the location of the 2 week expired yard sale that had this picture of African kids.
Hi. You had a picture of African kids for sale at your yard sale. Do you still have it?
And that was that. Someone else is oohing and aahing guests at their home, telling great fictitious tales of adventure and humanitarianism while my wall that could have been remains lifeless.
My new goal in life is to adopt a picture of starving African children.