Country Living

I've mentioned it to some before, but the only way I'd living outside of the city (never a suburb) is if I could have a goat. My father used to tell me stories of his uncle's old goat Clarence. I've found that goats have a lot of personality and guess what, they're useful, too!

Leaders of the Los Angeles Community Redevelopment Agency hired 100 goats to nibble away thick weeds on a steep slope at the corner of 4th and Hill streets, next to the Angels Flight funicular.

Agency officials said the goats were cheaper and more environmentally friendly than two-legged brush-clearers armed with gasoline-powered weed-whackers.

Elections

The only part of my disjointed dream that I remember is holding onto my old iguana, Melvyn. There was some sort of grate with an opening in it. I put Melvyn into it and he almost fell into the lava in there. Thankfully he didn't because he was running for Prime Minister.

Ba-Dum Pssshhhh

I can't remember much except I was playing drums with BBG on the Union Terrace. Neither of us were particularly good although I was much worse than she was. I couldn't keep a beat and had no idea how to play any songs. The crowd seemed disinterested.

Another part I was trying to find my dorm room. The halls were narrow and the doors were tall.

Another part I had to go to church. I saw Shaun there and he didn't have to go even though he was the pastor's son. I was pissed about that.

A Poem....

.... from Langston Hughes:

In times of stormy weather
She felt queer pain
"you'll find rain better
than shelter from the rain."

Days filled with fiery sunshine
Strange hurt she knew
That made
Her seek the burning sunlight
Rather than the shade.

In months of snowy winter
When cozy houses hold,
She'd break down doors
To wander naked
In the cold.

Life As It Has Been

Firing up the hippocampus reports that not too much has happened in the last week.

Yesterday morning was interesting. My roommate felt pain in his spine before fainting and hitting his head on the ground. Thankfully his girlfriend was there to help. She woke me up and I called an ambulance. The EMT's didn't think anything threatening was wrong, but when his head still didn't stop bleeding three hours later, we went to the ER. Usually I hate the ER, but he got right in. In the end he received five staples in the head and as of now has a bad headache, but all will be well with time.

My rugby board met last night to discuss the future of the team. We decided that we're going to stress being a WRC farm team at the DIII level since we can't survive as just a predominantly gay team. It'll still be part of the team, just not the only thing.

The only other thing of note is there's nothing really of note. I guess Shari and Michael coming does count as something of note. And I did catch the Fonz statue in Milwaukee on Saturday. Ok, there's enough going on, I just don't have words for it I guess.

So be it.

Pioneers

We come by it honestly as you can see from an early pioneer:

Pinneo came to Madison in 1837 and built a hut on the outskirts of town (where Tenney Park is now) where he cut shingles. He worked hard when sober, something that occurred "only when every artifice and cunning had failed to provide the means of getting drunk."

Once he'd been paid in cash, "there was no more work in Pinneo, who would by a more direct route reach town in time to get glorious' long before the purchaser made his appearance with the shingles. After he had endured a week's drunk, his red face and bare breast shone in the sun with a peculiar brilliancy."

Pinneo slept outdoors and went barefoot for years. "His feet looked in shape and color like mud turtles," an acquaintance wrote, "and his toes resembled so many little turtle heads half drawn in." He had a laugh and a joke for everyone, especially when tipsy.

Like many alcoholics, Pinneo ultimately met a tragic end. He soon wandered away from Madison and died in a miner's cabin when his clothes caught fire during a drunken binge.

Ah, Wisconsin!

A Jumbled Mess

I'll try to remember this one coherently but I promise nothing.

One part I was in my neighbor's basement. Tom was there, but I'm not sure who the others were. Tom had a hug bag of heroin. He threw it to me and it busted open. I licked off the powder from my index finger and Tom said to be careful because it isn't cut. I went outside and someone came up to me and asked if I spoke French. I said in French that I didn't. Then I was surrounded by the people he was helping. A couple spoke Turkish and a couple spoke French. Maybe some spoke German. I tried to help them, but then yelled "QUIET!" I believe I yelled that in reality, too.

Then I was in some Death Star kind of place. I know I was killing storm troopers and going in and out of elevators. The center of the place was open, so I was hanging on to keep from falling. Then Trapjaw was there and turned on the storm troppers because he was in love with some girl on my side. I guess she gave him a new set of teeth.

Then part of if was where I was putting on plays. Shari found it funny that I made Tara sing "Dancing Queen". Brendon gave me a bag with half a bagel and cream cheese. Then I was watching Shari's play in some big Orpheum-like auditorium. Then somehow I was dead, but a seat was always saved for me. So I showed up, but everyone said it was saved for a dead guy. Then I showed them my library card and said that I was that dead guy. Then for some reason the whole deal moved to the new Yankee Stadium. I was happy that I could watch a ton of baseball each year, but still wore my Brewer's shirt. Then the Brewers were playing the Yankees in the World Series and some of us stood up and cheered.