The desert's middle fingers

I have this theory. I think that it's so fucking hot in the desert that the saguaro cacti (yeah, I said it) are just flipping us off out of spite. "Look at me with my juicy wet cactus insides! Stupid meatbag! Bwahahaha" That's probably why there aren't any saguaro anywhere else in the world. Yep, just us and our bitter plants.

I made it through today and only wanted to cry once. Somewhere I lost the ability to suck it up like an adult and piece it back out to the world.

God help me, everyone I know is pregnant or just had a baby. What the fuck.

My lower legs are sore. Thus I need new running shoes. And boo!

We are going to see Mike Ness this weekend. This is a spur of the moment, we are in our twenties decision. The 80 year old in me is questioning why. Shut up granny! We are living here!

It's normal to question every decision in the last 6 years, right?

Why do I pay for music still? Am I a sucka? Or, a person with integrity?