Feeling unknown and you're all aloneFlesh and boneBy the telephone

Thanks for all the engagement congratulations from you readers.



In turn, I have to apologize for my blog neglect.



I have been playing, literally, 3 - 9 hours of guitar per day. I have been working on that traveling sketchbook art project.



I have become proficient at the drums.



I have been making money, hand over fist, in ruthless fashion.



I have a hernia.




I have tickled upon the practice of law for some friends and connections. It's weird how you never really stop being a lawyer. It's like the mafia. Just when I think I'm out, they ... drag ... me back ... in.



I wish I could have told you that I got my hernia having some wild jungle sex.



Or maybe that I rolled out of a moving car, because the man was on right my ass, and I had a warrant out.



This blog is NOT all there is to my life.



You would be sorely mistaken if you thought that.



For one, I am laying down some serious shit in my Beat Laboratory. You can't hear that. In fact, you have no idea.



I am thinking about a subtitle for the Beat Laboratory.

Boogie Station



I am also thinking about a subtitle, or perhaps some kind of prequel for the Beat Laboratory/Boogie Station.

The Funk Cave.

That gives me the flexibility to mix and match.

Funk Station or Boogie Cave.



I'll probably install a pole, so I can slide down to the garage without having to bother with the stairs.

And it would be handy for all the stippers hanging out here.

That's how I got my hernia!

Men's night at the strip club.



I was upside-down, arms extended, back arched, suspended six feet above the stage, with only the friction of my thighs to hold me.

I better stop this before you get too turned on.

I can't aford a scene with paparazzi, escpecially since I just became a lesbian.



Peace out.



I won't see you for a few days. I am going to see Willie Nelson Friday. UH, that'll suck worse than homework.