I am all a-tingle. Actually, I think that’s the chest pain from my giving up on No-Mow-May because thigh high grass is really, really, fucking hard to get through.

It’s time for a break, and then, high blood pressure brought on by the stress of watching hockey playoffs.

And a beer. A nice, cold Kolsch.

Target: 1200 words
Written: 1116 words, novel: Bad Neighbours

Read: The Gilded Age: A Tale Of Today, Twain/Warner (who knew the Gilded Age lasted so goddamned long?)
Comics: Fathom 5-8
Music: Either/Or, Elliott Smith