I can write on this blog every day.
Oh yes I can. You know why?
Because I just decided to, that's why. And I have a fever. And let's not forget that I've spent the day half-awake, swimming in and out of fevered sleep, drooling on my pillow and popping ibuprofen.
And smelling, frankly, not so good. I can smell the fever sickness coming off my skin. It's bronzed, toned, rippling skin, but I wouldn't go sniffing at it. Should I get me a shower? Oh sure, but the back pain kicks in, and the nice shower turns into me in a foetal position in the tub with hot water striking at me mercilessly from above.
Let me tell you, there is only one way to spend a four-day August weekend, and that's sick like me. I can't even be bothered to read In the Shadow of Young Girls in Flower, even though it's right at my bedside. That sort of shit requires concentration, which I don't got today.
Yahoo! I got me a swanky, nearly pill-sized* little digital camera. They call it a Lumix FZ-8. I call it Daniel the Camera. Why Daniel? Because many years ago, when I was an orphaned boy wandering around the ruins of Eastern Europe, a man named Daniel locked me in a shed and forgot about me. I nearly starved to death. Daniel looked a lot like my camera. Here is the only surviving photo of that half-human, half-animal jailer who nearly destroyed me.
And here are a few images I took of stuff 'round the house.
These are wind chimes that Schmutzie's parents brought us from the Dominican a few years back.
It behooves you not to forget the Crab House Crunch.
Anyway, every time I look at my camera, I think of Daniel, and my heart grows a little colder. It's good to have a camera.
*Obviously I'm talking about a sizable pill.