Rain on My Parade, God? Urine for a Beating

I finally dragged my ass out of bed to watch the dawn break over the Atlantic Ocean this morning at half past holy fuck it's early. I dressed and was about to stumble downstairs for my shoes and then proceed to the beach when I realized it was raining. Raining hard. Things slowly turned over in my head and then I ran around closing a few windows and collecting the cushions off the furniture on the porch. The one thing my hosts had asked that I do before leaving was to move all the cushions on the porch to the house to prevent them from getting wet. All I can say is that if I hadn't woken up early to see the non-dawn, I wouldn't have heard the rain.

As for the suspects that ruined my dawn-watching, the urine is being frozen as I type. St. Peter is going to find a strange odor when he reports for work one of these days.

It Isn't Waterboarding But It Is Still Torture

I am listening to Kathleen's Holiday Music Station on Pandora in an attempt to inure myself for the inevitable trip to some local palace of commerce.

My coworkers love it. I have been asked to turn it up.

Confidential to Someone

I want it to be next weekend so fucking bad it hurts.