Farkle is a fast moving game similar to poker played with dice.  I played last night with my friends Ed and  Stork.  Stork used to be a member of Retarted Elf, a dancer, and Ed is Collings Guitars top finish man.  They are great guys but cutthroat at games.  I walked out with 10 bucks after losing all day.  Both these guys listen to the best music.        Farkle related violence is on the rise!

          The turn of the century Gang Wars on the Colorado river!  Featuring the Goofers, the Why-ohs, the Five Pointers, the Plug Uglies, the Car Barn gang, the Peep-o-the-Day Boys, Mose, the Dusters, and, of course, the Dead Rabbits!      Stand by for history at it's very Furriest!

  Just Fucking Awesome.      This is an Orb spider that has taken up residence outside my slide-out window.  This one has the remains of the male stuck to it's back.  These things are so lovely and so sinister.  Spiders are my allies.

     Saturday night I got Jacked Up and went a-venturing into the pasture.  I grabbed a pair of combat shorts and, with my kriss and old Colt, went looking for trouble.  There, of course, was none.  I was just practicing moving through the tangle like the predator I used to be.  Knowing it was safe made it all that much more fun.  I got as far as the river without tangling ass with anything, so, thoroughly pleased with myself, went home and got dressed.  (The rain started as I was quartering the area, adding to the thrill).      Gonna run through the jungle!

     My shed, with unfinished carport roof.  With no roof I can see the stars better so it works for me.        Kuato.  He showed up one July 5th skinny and loud.  He used to claw at me if I did not put his food dish down fast enough.  He is now fat and very greedy for the pettings.      This is my shed, with Spiculus gazing lugubriously back at us.  I started this almost a year ago.      Thomas Jonathan Jackson, Jr.  He burst from cover and came at me from my right flank, my first night on the property, August 2006.  I was reading about Chancellorsville.  He had no skin on his back leg.  Fish and milk fixed him up.      Daytime book nook.  With a breeze it is very pleasant.  Without one it is just nice.      My stage and shed.      ...

     It's the copier's fault about the feet, not mine.  This bunny is going to die.  I will not be back until Monday, I am out of money and gas and I have to use the library's machines to post.      I'll walk through minefields for bad, complex, pointless puns.  For once, Billy is not to blame for today's posting!

     "Is... Is he...Is he a Bunny"?