chilling out while G is finally asleep, reading Wired, drinking some “Eve of vieve.” I love the firepit its very cathartic, relaxing to read by and watch, and the burning is like therapy. Today we are burning a root ball from something that deserved to die, some huge hunk’o’hunk of mesquite, and a broom I stole from the loading dock of a middle school in Arlington, VA in like 1993 when Beckie and I got in a huge fight and I went out and drove myself through a 12 pack in northern Virginia. That piece o shit has been with me for almost 15 years, the bristles are finally gone, and it will become one with the collective. I love that. The lawn chairs we bought in 1996 at the Street Fair in Tucson for $35 each are next…well, one went about a year ago, the one I’m sitting on is held together by a shred of a thread and one good wiggle its into the pit. Sweet. “burn motherfucker burn,” The Bloodhound Gang, ‘Fire Water Burn’, 1996.