Thought for Monday

Saturday night is when you sin
And
Sunday is when you regret

Adam Duritz, Counting Crows

Where are you taking me?

Please let it be anywhere
Except no where...
I don't think I can handle it
Not again
Not again

This Is Dedicated To You

"Shedding off one more layer of skin, keeping one step ahead of the persecutor within"

Dylan

Meeting with the Mubster

Pages and pages of witness statements
Bundles of Documents
Relentless ramblings by counsel
Endless Depositions

And all I can think of right now
Is a cool pint of snake bite!

The Men Who Don't Fit In

There's a race of men that don't fit in,
 A race that can't stay still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin,
 And they roam the world at will.
They range the field and they rove the flood,
 And they climb the mountain's crest;
Theirs is the curse of the gypsy blood,
 And they don't know how to rest.
If they just went straight they might go far;
 They are strong and brave and true;
But they're always tired of the things that are,
 And they want the strange and new.
They say: "Could I find my proper groove,
 What a deep mark I would make!"
So they chop and change, and each fresh move
 Is only a fresh mistake.
And each forgets, as he strips and runs
 With a brilliant, fitful pace,
It's the steady, quiet, plodding ones
 Who win in the lifelong race.
And each forgets that his youth has fled,
 Forgets that his prime is past,
Till he stands one day, with a hope that's dead,
 In the glare of the truth at last.
He has failed, he has failed; he has missed his chance;
 He has just done things by half.
Life's been a jolly good joke on him,
 And now is the time to laugh.
Ha, ha!  He is one of the Legion Lost;
 He was never meant to win;
He's a rolling stone, and it's bred in the bone;
 He's a man who won't fit in.


-The Spell of the Yukon and Other Verses, Robert W. Service

Go on, tell me