Good morning Arizona

You are so freaking beautiful.

Good Morning Arizona You Are So Fucking Beautiful

There was so much light in the sky this morning that the clouds were glowing.

I have been quite surprised, to say the least, to see Blitzkrieg Bop used in Coppertone ads. WTF? I can’t even think about what Joey Ramone would have to say about that.

Miss Fish had a little field mouse (or some sort of little mouse-creature with huge nocturnal eyes) treed on the brick wall, and after meowing me out there at 5:30, possibly to ask for assistance in shifting it, or just to commiserate with her annoyance, she didn’t budge. Four hours into it, with the mouse really weary, I tricked her into the house with a second breakfast and hurried it off of the wall.

As if that weren’t insult enough, I took advantage of her stubbornness during her sit-in under the wall to put her monthly topical flea repellent on, which she resented with every fiber of her huntress being. It’s really not her day, and I feel badly for her about that. I’ll try to make it up to her. And after all, she could still catch the mouse. It isn’t very smart, and that’s a fact.

Also, I like a sweaty boy in a damp white dress shirt. Let him sing us through my bizarre dream.

When the Fishstick meowed me awake, I was having the most absurd dream. I was in St. Louis, just having discovered that Bill had brought home a lot of cardboard boxes full of old florist vases that were for some reason special, but to me looked exactly like more clutter, and a guy knocked at the door and tried to sell me a special new transport service to…? Arizona, I thought, but honestly I wasn’t sure. I said no, thanks, but then somehow I was aboard for a free trial, and it was like a train, and I had a bunch of students with me.

We travelled for a while, fooling around in our train seats, and then we were at an airport, but not there yet, and I thought, “I wonder what the other cars are like?” and I wandered up and found that as one went forward, the cars got more and more luxurious, and some of my students were relaxing in hot tubs, or in large staterooms, and I was like, wow, I should have gone back further, and then I reached the grandest car of all, and it was occupied by none other than Allison Shock, going by her Facebook name of Cranky Owlet.

There was a sign on her door, like the dressing room of a starlet, and it said, “This berth reserved for Cranky Owlet Specifically.”

And then Miss Fish made me go outside and look at her treed mouse.

And then I saw the CLOUDS.

Simon, who had his topical yesterday, has already forgotten about it and allowed me to brush him for long minutes, and showed me his cute spotted belly.

I found a nice clip of Ferry in the studio laying down some of the vocals for the Mamouna record. When he sings, “I want to be alone, with no one else,” the look on his face is like looking in the mirror.

I want to laugh with him, and we can put our hands backward on our forehead, and say, “Absolutely NO ONE understands us!”

Pity it cuts off rudely, like so many things in life.

The Mamouna show (which I saw with my love on a previous romantic trip to Chicago lo these many years ago) was the one at which Combustible Edison opened up for Ferry. It was confusing, but awesome. Also like so many things in life. I must admit that I did not know that this excellent video for Millionaire’s Holiday existed. Their production budget is apparently like mine (lunch and a hand job) but they rock it hard.

(I should point out that the lunch and a hand job business is only my CURRENT production budget, and at this time I am the only one on staff. )