At War With Metal: Resurrected by Hi Bandwidth Angelz

Jesus shit, I just noticed how long it has in actuality been since I last sproinged forth my fever dreams onto google's unsuspecting serverbots for the enjoyment of your eyebeams. Well, that weren't my intention. Maybe back around Thankssgiving I tried to squee shut the tap jus' a bit to pressurize and metabolize a more -- significant? personable? purposeful? carefree? gluten free? -- flow, and wound up rather Thanksgiving up [Har!]. Hibernating. I can afford nice beer now, even been taught a bit on how to make an acceptable batch, and our living room's been rearranged to allow sweet couch-fed access to my turntable, so I can slap singles off 'n on without any effort, which is pretty much exactly as things should be. And, you know, shit... "Happy families are all alike." And so I conform, somewhat, and then what do I tell you of interest? Oh, but I'm still legit. Things don't still piss me off sometimes: I screwed some much-craved goulash up last night, it took forever for Netflix to send us the second disc of the Wire's fourth season, and other things sometimes inconvenience me for minutes or even hours at a time. Life is hard all over, I guess.

My laptop is still stolen as fuck, but we just bought a real live supported internet hookup. Yeah, I know... total sellouts. Still, now when I have a sixer and can convince my lady to stop demanding mutually fulfilling conversation and/or lovemaking, I can log on here via her (other) machine and tell you all about my stuff! My opinions! My "thoughts"! Again! It's like old times.

And so to kick of the deluge or trickle of effortless, directionless posts that I will once again spend valuable time and eyecells on over Russian lit, I offer you the first edition of the newly retitled for 2008 broadcasting masterpiece, my gawdamn radio riot:

Sheltered Life #1 part 1 | part 2 - theme: Welcome to the Outhouse