Talking To Ralph On the Great White Telephone

Life is busy. Spring is here. Rodents are mating in my walls. Giant raindrops are splattering against my windows. My students are determined to kill me by touching every square inch of my piano with their little disease-impregnated fingers. So, long story short I'm feeling a bit sleep-deprived, sun-deprived and health-deprived.

But what's funny about that? Sounds like a bunch of whining to me. And if I read one more person's blog about the "trials and tribulations" of their daily life followed by some cheesy quote I will barf. Probably not actually barf. More a metaphoric barfing. Its been years since I did a literal barf. YEARS. And I think tequila shots at some sort of Western-themed bar back in University may have been the culprit. Mind you, does it really count as a barf if you don't remember the act itself, but instead hear a description of the act second-hand from a witness who wisely had one less tequila shot than you? That's a cheater barf I think. For it to be legit you have to be be able to recount the details in the first person. Whoah. How did this turn into a post about barf?? Ok. Enough. There are fucking children who read this blog.

My point: being short on time and energy but still wanting to put up something so Katy doesn't halt her daily visits (thus devastating my hit counter and making it appear that no one reads this thing) I'm posting an interlude of craigslist ads that I actually have taken the time to write. Turns out I can be motivated to write when there's the potential for cash at the end of hitting the "publish" button. It's the delusional way to call oneself a paid author. A paid author with a lot fewer belongings.....Hey! let me know if you want to buy anything! The Friend Special means not only do you get to pay the full asking price, but you also get to bring me a sandwich when you come pick your purchase up. Because that's what friends do for friends who are selling all their belongings. Right friend?