i am daylights: goldilocks and the three bears: a modern porno tale

i had a dream last night terrorists took over the woodward area north of 696 and south of about 13 mile. i was held at gunpoint three times but was never shot. i wasn't even killed when i lied, pleading to the man [one of whom women in the dream were fumbling, trying to seduce: rouge on their apples, hair fixed up nice, necklines hastened down to plummeting; we were at some point careened in an arby's, and they were repeating endlessly how gorgeous he was with his long hair and full beard; it was as if they were in a trance] that i was italian and not american [and not greek?]. it was at this point that i was nearly killed, as i failed to answer as a true italian some question about "the five beauties" [?!], as i could recall not even one.

is poverty all we think about lately? yet, we are happy in spite of so busily still chasing deals. last night was pork chops day two: fried. i burned them, and smoke quickly filled the house, setting off the alarm. terry salvaged the chops, but we still overdosed on bacon grease. i baked the chops to perfection the other night and should perhaps stick with that in the future.

it's noon friday, and it's far past the time i should be sitting here, still sipping on coffee. the terrorist dream kept me in bed past eleven. i would have preferred the men had never came and the dream remained as it was in the beginning when i was helping a friend sweetly arrange and package cupcakes and other baked goodies he had made for his lover.

motivated mostly/only by guilt of barely not writing for months, here's some pictures from the touch and go festival in chicago last weekend. they're not amazing, but they're something to look at. i like them.