Man, I Been Limboized
The title for this post popped all friendly-like into my noggin, and I was going to throw down with the Big Big Rhymes all ending with "-ized" and so on, but I am so damn beat-down dead sack of meat tired all I could come up with was "syncretized," and as I do not feel in the least bit heterogeneous I gave it up as a bad job.
A brief summarization of my little world right now: the house is now empty, all of my non-Journey related stuff is in storage, and I'm crashing at Pea's new place in an Undisclosed Secure Location with my trike, my trailer, and 8,000 cubic inches of gear. I'm exhausted, floating in the tractless space between transitions, waiting for some nut-thumping cubicle troll to do their goddamn job and push their stinking papers around so that a transaction well-desired by both seller and buyer can take place, while the trike sits on its side in the corner amidst unpacked boxes and wonders why the hell it ever left Australia. ("See the States, have a few laughs!" they said. Feh.)
