It’s cold this morning. The car hasn’t quite warmed up yet. There’s still patches of frost on the windshield receding from the blast of hot air coming from the registers. From where I’m parked, I can see into the shop. An older, blue collar man who’s covered from head to toe in black Carhartt is standing at the counter. He’s talking with her, Jordan, the barista as he balances four large, lidded paper cups, two in each hand, one on top of the other. I don’t know how he does it, hold the coffee, that is. I can’t hold onto a filled cup for more than thirty seconds without burning my palms. I always need one of those cardboard
Spam
January 10th, 2010
1 Comment
I get so much fucking spam on my site it’s hard to see why I even keep it going. I guess for the 5 people that read my once-a-month updates. At least some of the archives are mildly interesting.
Happy Same Old Fucking Shit, yall!
January 1st, 2010
1 Comment
My resolutions
1. Find an old fixed gear road bike to clean up and ride around town.
2. Start a lo-fi band.
3. Get a job that makes me actually feel like I’m doing something with my life.
4. If the lo-fi band thing fails try starting acoustic death folk band.
5. Help revive the Bon Ivers.
