Admittedly, I’m in a bit of a mid-summer funk. I’ve been living out of a clothes basket in the basement for, oh, about a month. I just walked past the sink and caught a whiff of something that resembled lobster bait on the turn. The gardens need to be weeded; the lawn needs to be mowed; the basement needs to be cleaned; my fly-tying/fishing room looks like a scene from poltergeist. It seems I’ve been putting a lot of effort into making a little money…and doing a little less than just that. Unfortunately, the blog always suffers the worst.
Well, I’ve got exactly one month to pull my shit together for lobsterfest. Time to put down the beer and pick up a shovel, or a broom. Whatever metaphor works for you. Because it’s all about you, right?
In the meantime, look at some boobs.
And for those of you that think I’m a chauvinist, don’t count out how good-looking that Mario is. Striking, really. Ahh, Mario, you ol’ motor-boatin’ son-of-a-bitch.