A Million Miles Away

It’s a deeply chilly, drizzly, grey morning here in Valhalla so, naturally, I had to run up the street to get a coupla shots of the MOST awesome bucket -- spotted yesterday in K&E’s Auto Body lot.

Yeah, it’s a beat to shit wreck of a thing but, mein Gott does it have monster, gorgeous lines or what!? I don’t know what it is or even what year -- ’48 maybe? But what is it? Anyone know?

Want. Need. Must have.

In that alternate reality I have going on, it’s MINE!

Then, on Facebook, a friend posted this:
A baby blue 1959 Austin Healey Bugeye Sprite for sale via ebay for only $16,500 and it’s nearby -- in Providence! Geographically close and, economically, a zillion miles away.

sigh, in my dreams it’s mine -- what a sweet dream it is.

I’m positively tortured by visions of fabulously brill cars!
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Flowers are beginning to come up. Thank Kali.

There are daffodils and these things (at left. dunno what they are. Anyone know?) poking up. Jen’s been planting pansies. I’ve been sowing forget me nots  because everyone wants to be remembered. Duh!? Right?

OK, there are certain behaviors and actions of mine that I’d love to erase from friend's, acquaintance's, past love's, lost ally's memories but...I digress. and shit.

Tomorrow is supposed to be sunny and 70. Yea!
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You can’t quite see it in this pic but my fav bartender’s nails are...YES, the exact same shade as the Cosmo she’d just crafted for me! Wendy IS the best!
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Fun with Facebook.
A fab friend of mine posted this column, about the Teamsters forming a human shield to protect mourners from those spectacularly vile ass-wipes from the Westboro Baptist Church (no linky for scum-sucking, ant brained, suppurating sores). In my early morning, fogged brain, I read the comment from a fellow, who went to high school with us, incorrectly. I thought he was expressing support and suggesting we borrow his assault rifle for the day, the task at hand.

I responded by going full metal Big-Swinging-Schwanz, saying,

 ‘we don’t need no steenking assault rifle here in Boston. We’ll take the WBC bastids apart by hand because, ya know, we’re into Artisanal Vigilanteism here.’

Oopsie. I read it wrong. Apparently this brutally cold-hearted, Nixonian, hamster brained (not to dis hamsters, mind you) idjit was advocating the violent death of the Teamster honor guard.

Note to self -- drink my espresso BEFORE commenting on anything!

Wow. Jenny and I went to school with some truly callous, maliciously stupid, appalling bits of slug shit. No wonder we both moved thousands of miles away.

This awesome song by Jim Boyd is, happily, in my head now. A Million Miles Away