A chickadee and a swallowtail came to my house for lunch. The swallowtail circled my head and the chickadee sat 8 feet from me in a lilac bush. Jealous house sparrows flew back an forth protecting their dying bush, which was decimated by two years of bag worms. They build traveling cocoons and use long silk like strands to anchor themselves to higher ground. They must know something. One of the Unwalking Dead sisters has a nephew Floyd. Pretty Boy Floyd. Not a lot of Floyd’s around. Less and less Ursula’s. Maria’s are shrinking. Violets are also. Soon the only Tiffany’s will be on 5th and 57th. Uber babies are taking over. They Know things. They talk incessantly. They have a patient agenda.

It is so unfortunate that some of the things we need to do to be better and feel better and be happy and make people happy are simple, but we just can’t bring ourselves to do them.

A Manhattan is pretty sucky. Sweet, boozy, no alpha spirit guiding and controlling taste. A true martini is nice, but very medicinal and sharp tasting. I like a good Bloody Mary cause they are like a soup or bowl of salsa and usually non alcoholy tasting. But so many people hate tomato juice. A Sazerac is basically putrid. If a fat food chain served something that tasted like that it would inspire world wide, web protests. Good bourbon or cognac, absinthe and bitters. Would hate to vomit that up. I love um though and Stingers (which taste like mint Lifesavers  and French 75’s and Jin & Guice and daiquiri’s.)

Rob Roy’s yuccky, Vodka and Ginger is syrupy and rubbing alcohol reminiscent. Negroni, baloney. Campari tastes like the window fluid of a Ferrari. Wine Spritzer, no shitzer. Kamikaze, makes you nausey. And the Old Fashioned. The opposite of Jiffy Pop, it’s way more fun to make than it is to eat.

On the wall at Sunshine Daydream, a ratty head shop in Guilfff, it say’s “Seth BLANK Sucks, He shoplifted.” And the Sunshine Daydream is as bad as the Singapore Sling. Both taste like Lavoris.

Last night Drake poured Red Bull into my Coppola Claret. I drank it just to spite him, but it was good. Drake is a good person, but because he’s spoiled, he expects effortless happiness. Undoing that expectation is not my job. I can only protect myself from his Kanyesque stinging comments. It takes energy to summon all that disdain, anger, disappointment and unmet expectation. I am glad I have a lower threshold for happiness.

I prayed to win a scratch off lottery and I wanted if for a specific purpose and my ticket won. Just Enough. That’s what god provides me. Just enough. I’ve tasted top wines, but not the toppest. And I want more.

Late last summer a miracle occurred and i wasn’t looking for it. It kinda happened.  Just by it’s sheer awesomeness, it caused other complications. Two great ideologies clashing over a generational gap. I sit inside as the day has brightened and listen to a leech berated. So many great things, so many shortcomings. Elation and regret in the same cup. My favorite wines are 1983 Lynch Bages purchased in 1999 at the incorrect price. Should have been $34.99, was $16.32, paid cash, out the door. 1990 Hermitage on Christmas Eve, a Sassicaia drunk in the 2003, my first great Barolo, and a Pertinace barolo in a restaurant, the one true wine list wine that sang to me. Pol Roger Churchill Cuvee Champers.

I kinda wanna do things but the mercurial nature of my cohorts makes it near impossible to gauge the when and where. I have had to stop doing things for people and put myself first and not caretake, I wanna caretake this one, but it is hard to understand just what is needed as it changes day to day. Anger and disdain for foolishness, even whimsy are their heraldic shield.

So i ride the wave. It is better and has progressed. Leaving me to ask;

“Am I selfish for asking?  Are they selfish for not giving it?”

I’d like to think it was 50/50. But I’m the bitcher. I accept, but 5 nights doing the same thing and one doing different stuff seems very reasonable. Yelled at for trying to plan, scolded for not planning. The rock and hard place scenario. Damned if, damned if not.

I did win a minor, minor sum in scratch gambling cards, And I appealed to the heavens and it twas granted

Absolutely no unique birds today.   :c

Fire season in California is started and Santa Clarita is burning. Flames encroach on the hills over Magic Mountain sprinkling ash down on the cotton candy. Thick smoke envelops you as you rise to the top of Goliath. Big smoke with wood and plastic hints and a touch of petrol. Burn it all. Have the great tidal river run amok and sweep Pandemonium to Old SaySay.

Last summer on a dog walk I found what I called “Dinner Plate Hibicus” which is a common name, because of the hugeness of the flower, of the hibiscus moscheutos. They are easy to germinate from the poppy-like seed pod which i snapped of the plant last November, before the rains. the two oldest ones died in a tragic towel accident and one more just died of desiccation. Just like the Jupiter Pines in a California wildfire.

Saw several swallowtail butterflies and a dusk eagle perched on his regular perch Saturday night. dark, but still twilight.  And saw goldfinches at KungTea Market.