And the Spirit of the Holidays, Drunk Off His Ass, Crashes His Car Into a Tree

This month has not been a Philippines sweat-shop of writing. In fact, the last few weeks have been a rather drab mailbox full of sale flyers of writing.  Nothing worth seeing here.

I have high hopes for 2013. Now that I have survived the Mayan apocalypse, I can stop procrastinating.  Although the mass murder of children, the Fiscal Cliff and whatever other fucked-up reality decides to intrude will certainly give me a good reason to put off tomorrow what I should do to today.

I am currently ensconced on the local coast of California, a dreamy place that will, in all likelihood, deteriorate into just another shitty coastal town, once the state government finalizes its plan to tax the state into submission.

So sad to see Shangri-La turning into Shitville.

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