By sheer faith, I know that there is a perennial border hidden somewhere amongst the weeds. The unbelievably great weather we have been having has prompted everything to grow like a mother, including the weeds.

The rain's gone and it's warm. When the soil is wet, it's the perfect time to pull them out by the roots easily. I am determined not to use any chemicals at all this year in the gardens, so for a good part of the afternoon, I'll be grubby and muddy, clearing out the beds and borders, laying out new poop and mulch, and drinking several obligitory beers.

12:44 Cleared all the weeds out of the border in the front and over-filled a 30 gallon trash bag. The sun is out now and blazing in a way that reminds me that here, Spring only lasts about 72 hours..after which we go directly into the hot, humid Georgia summer. My T shirt has now come off, and my rippling muscles are glistening in the steamy hot Georgia sun. Oh right...I'm kidding no one. My body has been referred to by my "friends" on occasions in the past as 1) A pregnant ironing board, 2) A potato with toothpicks stuck in it, and 3) Closely resembling the hillbilly on the old Mountain Dew bottles. I’m sure my pasty torso and skinny weed-flinging arms are getting my neighbors all hot and bothered.

Mass-market beer intake for today so far: 12 fluid ounces.

3:06  Pulled out all the weeds in the evergreen garden on the other side of the front yard.  This is the most "landscaped" and planned area of the property...A giant Chindo Viburnum, encircled by Laurels, with False Cypress, Provence Lavender, and Viburnum Davidii as adjacent accents, underplanted all over with contrasting grey-green Lambs Ear. 

Red from across the street came over and actually conversed coherently for a while.  It looks like she has been clean for a while.  She was wearing some sexy tight jeans and a low cut salmon tee shirt.  When she is clean, this girl is stunning...I mean pop star stunning and beautiful. Creamy caramel skin, genetically blessed perfect female body, and that auburn hair that some black girls have, and an unrestrained smile and personality that could melt even the most reserved and jaded heart.  When she is on a few weeks' long crack episode; however, she looks like a monster. Red is currently in an estate dispute with her sister Nettie over the house left behind by their mother.  Red wants us to take sides.  Red's most frequent interaction with Marc and me involves asking for $1.75 for Marta fare.  Nettie perpectually asks Marc and me to fix her air conditioner, stove, or car, but in return always brings over huge overflowing plates of greens, black-eyed peas, ox tails, ribs, pig's feet, ham, and other southern home cooking on Sundays.  Marc freaks out about the pig's feet and won't touch them, but I do.  Fuck it, they are good. 

Rob came by to see what we wanted to do tonight.  We are trying to decide between the "Undergrass Blueground" lineup at Smith's Old Bar in midtown or the "Clash on Flat Shoals" in East Atlanta, culminating in a 5 band post-punk show at The Earl.  Oh yeah...I didn't mention that today is mine and Marc's 6th anniversary, did I?

Butch (immortalized in my post "Ode to Otis Anderson"), came around, to call me a "honkey asshole" for forgetting to bring over some shit he wanted from the old house, tell me everything I was doing in the garden was totally wrong, and play with Rex.  He's gone down to pick up two 6 packs of Rolling Rock as an anniversary gift for us now, and will be back to help weed and hoe, sit on our porch, give me shit, and spin stories the rest of the day.

Mass-market beer intake today so far: 36 fluid ounces.

6:24:  Ok..now things are complicated.  We now have in our hands, gratis invites to Eleven50, possibly the most fun and throwed off club in midtown.  This is not the type of venue that you hop in and out of.  Multiple bars, outdoor tables, international guest DJs, pretty pretty PRETTY people, throwed off European decor and furnishings, chance encounters with pop and hip hop celebs, and fun, flirty, uber-sexy, entertaining, and engaging barkeeps.  Again, this is not the kind of club you jump in and out of.  If you can get in, you stay all night.  The last time Marc and I spent an evening there, Thievery Corportation brought in 13 artist from all over the globe for an off the chain throw down.  Do we want to commit to this, or float around and hit the other hot spots for our anniversary? 

Mass-market beer intake today so far: 60 fluid ounces.

7:02  Marc and I spend an inordinate amount of time in the kitchen debating about replinishing the dog treat jar.  Marc takes the position that Gracie and Rex love the cheap ass Milk Bone Large treats, while I argue the merits of the infintely more nutricious Eukanauba mid sized treats.  Marc wins and is off to fetch Milk Bones.  I secretly admire the decision, as I personally ate one that was intended for our Water Spaniel Binkey when I was six years old and thouroughy enjoyed it.

Mass-market beer intake today so far: 66 fluid ounces.

8:08  The "Clash On Flat Shoals" wins.  Post-punk, close to home, comfortable, and familiar. Ahhh...nice group decision.  It also leaves us an option to junk shake, courtesy of an inspired and clued local DJ at the East Side Lounge across the street if we so desire later. I couldn't ask for a better anniversary night out.  Fuck  midtown... the east-siders are taking over anyway.  I'm muddy and I stink like a east-sider.  Solidarity!

But, I'm still gonna take a shower before we head out. Peace. T.

Mass-market beer intake today so far: 72 fluid ounces.

10:03 As usual, I am the last of the posse to get ready to go out.  I jump out of the shower and throw on some jeans, and grab a T shirt that says "I do not consent to being searched".

*******The Clash "London Calling"

  

I can't pinpoint why I woke up really perky as shit. The rain is pounding on the roof of the Doghouse, and it's ugly outside. Oh yeah, not only is it Saturday morning...it's April 1st!

I think I'll go play with my Mr. Potato Head...and nooooo...that's not a euphemism for anything dirty. Get your minds out of the gutter, people!

Biggie T is soooo dreamy.

I'm taking a break from the FFFs, but maintaining the format just because. These are some favorite Jack Handy quotes...

1) I believe in making the world safe for our children, but not our children's children, because I don't think children should be having sex.

2) I don't think God put me on this planet to judge others. I think he put me on this planet to gather specimens and take them back to my home planet.

3) If trees could scream, would we be so cavalier about cutting them down? We might, if they screamed all the time, for no good reason.

4) The face of a child can say it all, especially the mouth part of the face.

5) To me, boxing is like a ballet, except there's no music, no choreography, and the dancers hit each other.

6) To me, clowns aren't funny. In fact, they're kinda scary. I've wondered where this started, and I think it goes back to the time I went to the circus and a clown killed my dad.

7) Why do the caterpillar and the ant have to be enemies? One eats leaves, and the other eats caterpillars. Oh, I see now.

8) If God dwells inside us, like some people say, I sure hope He likes enchiladas, because that's what He's getting!

9) If you ever feel like you're on the verge of a nervous breakdown, just follow these simple rules: First, calm down; second, come over and wash my car; third, shine all my shoes. There, isn't that better?

10) I can picture in my mind a world without war, a world without
hate. And I can picture us attacking that world, because they'd
never expect it.

*******The Pretenders "Mystery Achievement"

All I wanted to do this morning was to alone with my thoughts, prowl around the yard in my pajamas and look at the new growth on all the shrubs and vines, look for new stuff blooming, and see what perennials are coming up,etc... but noooooo. 

Some crazy old black guy with a giant boil on the side of his neck has to stop his 1976 Caprice Classic in front of the house and get all up in my yard and my shit, wanting to fix or buy the truck that has been parked in the back. This was a boil of monumental proportions...like an extra head was about to pop out. I couldn't take my eyes off of it.

My white trash southern identity would be sorely compromised if I didn't have a piece of crap junk car abandoned in the yard, so I politely declined his offer, speaking directly to the giant boil.

At work, GH is all freaked out because he got a booklet from a random mailing from the AARP yesterday.  He's only 46. That's all he talked about all fucking day...he was telling everybody that would listen.  After the 68th time I overheard the story, it was just pathetic. 

"Donner, Party of One"

The delivery guy from Chin Chin took an hour and a half to get my order to me, and I was about to fucking starve.  I started looking at GH, imagining he was a giant rump roast.  Mr. Chin Chin finally arrived with my lemon pepper wings and house lo mein.  I got a free hot sour soup for the wait.

Now back at the Doghouse, I get to chill to the new internet-only release by Thievery Corporation...good stuff.  If you guys haven't signed up for Real Rhapsody yet, I feel for ya.  It's like having a billion CDs at your disposal.  I've discovered a shit load of great tunes and artists I would never come across otherwise.

So...anyway.  Hope everyone is having a sublime evening.  My dogs are in a rowdy mood and need some attention.  Peace, T. 

******Thievery Corporation "Can I Get A Witness"

There is a resounding thud
(when you find your soul mate)
that resonates from even deeper than the heart.