this is TK427; situtation normal

west coast? phoo. i'd like an exec to take a big shit on right now, no, fuck that. waste of my feces- its better off composting. ill sure as hell spit in their greedyass eyes, though.
we're lookin for a house. to live in the city, (4 mi radius or so) we have to spend a third to half a million dollars. and that gets us a house thats in need of repairs, and hardly any yard. cause all the lots that had space, well they get bought within 2 days of listing by large developers who bulldoze the existing structure without salvage, and flatten the land, and ruin any existing habitat to throw up cheap ass enviornmentally irresponsible multifamily dwellings. im allll alll for density, this urban sprawl has got to stop, but so does the destruction of the last vestiges of undisturbed land in the concrete jungle.
im remodeling, so at least im not building new structures, but almost all of the wood i use is not sustainably harvested and is laminated with formaldahyde based glues that pollute heavily at the mill and off gas in the house and all over me when i cut it. in the house im currently working on, we put in pine flooring that was made from salvaged timbers- OVER an existing fir floor that was beautiful. and this house will be bulldozed in ten years. its just a showcase for the architect who will bill herself as using sustainable practices. hmph.
is this better than the sprawl ass cookie cutter homes i worked on in colorado?
i exploit the forests of the world so that i can 'buy' a home whose price is inflated by suitwearing jackasses bent on stuffing their pockets with no regard for anyone, even their children.
soo...
everythings normal, i guess.

heat seekin

i been hankerin, longing for the heat, the nights where i can cruise around till 3 in a tshirt under the orange glow of the moon and streetlights, breakin a little cooling sweat as i crank down on the pedals of my bike powered by the bbq i had hours earlier.
in the moments and years of playin in the texas heat, it never inkled that i might one day look back on it romantically. here ive been, though, safe in my left coast organic bubble, wishin i had just one texas day.
i'd go for a drive. maybe with a joint, maybe with a can of drpepper. all windows down, even when the road gets dusty. just whizzing by waving grass and decrepid semi-abandoned outbuildings and inbuildings and fallen signs and barbedwire. ancient staring glaring longhorn cattle. go get some bbq from a side of the road shack or in an old smoky rebuilt redecked reporched expanded elongated grub barn with yellow news clippings and photos in a compounded cram on the walls, cobwebs full of dust and cigarette ash, old man waitin for your order in a rickety recliner behind the greasy counter.
go barefoot on the screaming fizzing asphalt to assist in the cooking-off of the recently ingested gutbomb, to any store on the square just to meander around for a bit enjoying the bliss of air-conditioned digestion.
sit on the porch and watch the yahoos gaggle around as a thunderhead rolls in, gently sucking up the stagnant hot air and pushing the sun to a saturated concentration where it searches for a balance between succumbing to the approaching big greygreenblack buffalo and running fast to the other side of the horizon. but with feet on the porchrail, exhausted dog underneath, it's hypothesized that the sun wants to hold its ground as the cloud elastically pushes through it, then it can blast back out the other side with the kinetic energy of all the passing friction, and throw all that extra energy down on our heads in protest to bighaired ladies' attempts to run and hide in freon malls and inflated SUVs.
and after the big yellow sets in a pink and purple horizon stew, we'll keep on, fueled by a refreshing wade and wander in an overgrown creek, and the excitement of the impossibility of heatexhaustion. the streets are dead, and the critters are out, and the plants are singing relief and the grass is cool earth is warm- just right for a spontaneous starviewin party. whistle with a grass blade an holler at the moon. with a good ol pal.

threwout

i threw out my back again today. the first time, i had carried an oven by myself- the cause was obvious. this time, however, was a bit more ambiguous.. just a little over a week of minor back pain and then some accute pain, and then this morning it really hurt. i cant really even remember this morning other than freezing in pain a few times thinking i might not move for a while. here i am, laying across the bench seat of my truck struggling to open the glovecompartment to retreive a bottle of homeopathic pills, 10 in the morn on a saturday (first saturday i havent worked in a month), and im gonna have to yell for help or just lie in the stinky dusty pickup cabin. i relaxed enough to make it back to the house, but the fear of invalidity caused my muscles to tense more, and before i knew it, i had disfigured myself, and was quasimoto-ing and wailing my way up the stairs to collapse at the side of the bed, requiring a series of shoves and rolls and drags to get my screaming ass in.

what a wonderful girlfriend i have- to put up with my emotional breakdown as i bind my back in fear and psychosomatica and pain, and then massage it and bring me medicine, alleving (pun unintended, but good anyway) my pharmacophobia and stiffness. then a breakfast on a tray- complete with whippedcream an blueberries. and her sweet daughter reads the first three chapters of a harrypotter volume to distract and calm me.

yesterday, i could gripe on in exhaustion about a number of things... today, i have a partially functional back, and i feel at home. accepted as is. loved.
maybe i even feel empowered.