Hell, maybe I’ll stick around. I have “met” (internet-ly) some pretty sweet people here.

I just have nothing to say anymore, really. I live in the woods. Trees to the left of me, trees to the right. Here I am, stuck in the middle with you.

Perhaps, I will only tell you stories from now on. I am, after all, a story teller.

Once upon a time, I lived in this red house with white trim. This was back in SoDak and it kinda looked liked a barn.

A very old house. There were hardly any plug-ins, and no three-prongers at all. In the living-room, there was just one, so I had all my 21st Century shit plugged into it. There were adapters and extension cords as far as the eye could see.

Well, one day I was getting all drunk on rum and, for no apparent reason, the whole tangled mess burst into flames. Instead of panicking or losing my head, I grabbed my favorite pair of chinos, my dogs, and the $19 on my dresser, and just left. I had just gotten off work a few hours earlier and I was SO done with drama.

Just kidding. Using my foot and water from the sink, I put it out.

But, honestly, did I make the right decision?