Summer is fantastic and its only 5 days old. I love overhearing conversations with the winter-lovers who are in their summer of discontent. They make all these sunshine loathing remarks, but I'm relatively sure they don't like walking in the rain.

PSA to those people who dislike perfect san diego weather: move the fuck away, now. You're needlessly raising san diego housing prices, you're dumbing down mexican food, and giving rise to way too many rubios and pick up stixesesseeses. You're clogging the freeways when I need to get to my house. You're giving Pardee homes way too much incentive to build their cookie cutter houses in pristine areas that should remain pristine. You're filling the beaches (del mar, shores, pb, marine st) and you're doing so while wearing too much or too little clothing. You have no idea what surf wax smells like, and you should move away. You're making it impossible for me to be a life long sd resident and I hate you for that. So go the fuck away.

Anyways, this must be my summer of discontent as I've posted on consecutive days--a rare event in recent times. yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah. Does anybody feel an intense need to experience? Does anybody else feel an intense depression with the realization that everything can't be experienced? At least most anything can be experienced. Cocaine for instance or the snows of Kilimanjaro and even an Unsigned Note. Single, white females should also be experienced. But my descrimination is less focused than that: all females should be experienced too. I suppose all males should too, I just won't be the one doing the experiencing. Listening to Pink Floyd and the Doors all day can reallly trip trip trip you out out out.

I think I'll move that house from New Orleans to Los Angeles. Shouldn't be too difficult. And if I die I'll be satisfied with my accomplishments. But I won't die, I would simply fade away. I prefer the Zepplin exit over the Stones'. I prefer Zepplin's music too, convenient. Now I'm just trying so I don't have to face the coming week. The coming 40 hours of dddddddnoteath, just annoyance. That's something that Zepplin never figured out--the working woman/man. Newman, Floyd, The Stones, those guys figured it out, and most definitely the Beatles. That's why they are the beginning middle and end.

Where should my adventure begin and who wants to come?