Pop quiz, hotshot: how many controlled subtances do you keep around the house? I have four now. The HST imitation train continues. These aren't even all drugs I enjoy or seek out, but as the Doctor says, once you start collecting the tendency is to push it as far as you can go.

That time-release ritalin could be key though. Pomo bennies. Hoo-rah. Ride Johnny, ride.

I self-idenify as a nice guy, I do, but I also suspect that I'm a bad, bad man. Irresponsible. Shameless. Rakish would be a nice way to put it. Asshole might be more accurate depending on who you ask.

And I'm sorry about that. I really am. I wish I were iron-willed, and I wish I didn't excite 22-year olds. But sometimes I'm not and sometimes I do, and sometimes those two coincide. And those younger girls (young girl, get out of my mind) can be precocious, G-D it, and this can lead to some really good times, times that I should probably not really stress out about. Come on man. Follow the queers: stick with oral until you're ready to be serious... But I think I know where this goes. Several more good times followed by me feeling like a scumbag because... well, because... I let things get a little ahead of me? Because I led someone on? I haven't lied to anyone and I really do try not to do that. However, as the President has shown us, there's a great deal of difference between lying and misleading.

Oh, you thought I wouldn't find a political angle? Shows you.

Base deal? I'm finding the ephemeral "ahhhhh" not quite balancing out that soul-staining "uggggg" that I anticipate. That's my baggage. Am I being a paranoid? I don't know. Probably. Maybe I'm not really a bad man. Maybe I just worry too much. That's probably true in any case.

So pile it on. Shots of espresso diffused in pints of Guiness... the old Ren Fayre speedball. The only way through is to keep pushing at that membrane until you break on through to the other side. Listen up here I got something to say / Boys, I'm buying this round.

Yeah, anyway, I have a hot date on Saturday. She promised not to read my blog, so no worries posting this... right? I'm also getting a bed that afternoon. Auspicious? You better believe it. Humina-humania-humina-humina.

What would the Buddha do? Probably let go of some attachments. The most important thing is to stop struggling. Belive in the divinity of your forward momentum. This is old philosophy for me, but it cuts to the bone. Every month or so I go through my little ego crisis, wondering when my friends will turn against me because I've become such a wontonly selfish eater of souls. When will I be finally branded for the unreliable charlatan that I am. A big red X carved in my forehead... I preach a Dark Future!

Well, anyway, it's ass-cold and I'm thinking about whipping myself into a savage cross-brooklyn ride. Tunes would be key here... damn that broken iPod! The route is down back to the homestead via the Manhattan bridge, then tracing the G-line above ground to the 'Burg for some shenanigans. I'm going to hook up with the old crew, maybe roll in heavy on this movie afterparty. I have a yen for the director. Yeah, that would be not my hot date for tomorrow -- now you begin to understand my perdicament.

Oh poor Josh. Shut the fuck up and enjoy it already. Let the godhead spring forth and roll with the punches. You only live once.