Veteran reporter: “Treat your notebook like you would your underwear kid — no one else should see it and don’t share it.”
while hiking today. It jumped on my face and landed on the top edge of my glasses as I was ducking under some fallen branches. In a panicked reflex, freaked out action, I smacked myself in the face and broke my glasses. Good thing I had some duct tape to do a quick field repair.
Now I’m using my backup pair of big-ass grandpa glasses. The wife teases me and says I look like Uncle Joon from The Sopranos.
Yeah, I’m a loser. FAIL.
The dogs of hypocrisy constantly nipping at my heels, testing my philosophy. No time to think. Gotta keep moving. MOVE.
Too many years have passed with too many distractions. I no longer recall the names and places and feelings and thoughts and wasted days.
But it’s all the same.
His life as a can of spam was a sham. All these years, his wife had been in love with the other white meat.