Bays and harbors.

I awoke with a start, panicked, thinking "I must organize these coastal defenses!" What the hell was I dreaming about? Maybe I'm overdue a trip to the Gulf coast. I dig the coastal areas of the state. So unlike the rest of this place. This place, unlike. I'm not an American. I'm not a Mississippian. I'm just a guy on a landmass.

I saw more of this country, last year, during my tour and brush with mild (very mild) fame. What I most enjoyed was the break with the conventions that are so unnecessary and so held dear here. I liked being in places where no one had any history.

Seeking purchase.

I've started spending more time outside than in. Dig this patio office. Ditched the cell phone. Tough for about a week, but it's nice to remember that I can still do as fine without as I did before. So what do I do out here?

Well....

Ah, well, hi!

Thought for the briefest of half seconds (ugh) about changing the layout. No way man.

 So. Mas, por favor indeed. Autocorrect made a hash of that sentence. This was begun when autocorrect was but a glint in someone's something. It was really a compilation when I started, a collection of old, now really old MySpace blog postings. A great deal happened from MySpace to this blog, and a much greater deal from the beginning of this blog to now, but I'll put current me up against either of those me's any day. Or any other iteration of me's. My fighting trim has never been so trim.

 (And aren't I trim? And trig?)