“California Sun” by the Ramones

Well, I'm goin' out west where I belong
Where the days are short and the nights are long
Where they walk and I'll walk
They twist and I'll twist
They shimmy and I'll shimmy
They fly and I'll fly

Well they're out there a'havin' fun
In that warm California sun.

Well, I'm goin' out west out on the coast
Where the California girls are really the most
Where they walk and I'll walk
They twist and I'll twist
They shimmy and I'll shimmy
They fly and I'll fly

Well they're out there a'havin' fun
In that warm California sun.

(24-second instrumental interlude)

Well the girls are frisky in old 'Frisco
A pretty little chick wherever you go
A-a-and they'll walk and I'll walk
They'll twist and I'll twist
They'll shimmy and I'll shimmy
They'll fly and I'll fly

Well they're out there a'havin' fun
In that warm California sun

Yeah they're out there a'havin' fun
In that warm California sun

*************************************************

So happy birthday to my little brother, El Brando, who is 20 today! Seems like only yesterday that I was chasing him through the house, trying to hit him with a toilet plunger while yelling “poop stick!”

It wasn’t yesterday. It was more like last summer sometime.

Feeling better about things today. Stayed late at work trying to put a dent in the assload of work that’s expected to be well under way by the end of the day tomorrow, and it went well. There’s still a veritable fuckton of work to do, but moop moop moop I’m not losing sleep over it.

It’s now night 2 of not really having much to talk about.

Jen and I are headin’ to Crappleton tomorrow night for free ice-cream goodness. You should let me know if you’re interested in going, too. Who doesn’t love free food? I say probably rich people. Because with free food they're stuck keeping the money they love to spend so much.

That’s it, I’m officially suffering from writer’s block. There is absolutely nothing to write about. Except for the private stuff I’m not publishing for public perusal. Sucks to be you, public, ‘cuz believe me it’s a wonderful bit of fluff that I’m keeping in my head. Wheeeeeee!

No, that wonderful bit of fluff is not my brain. I sold that years ago for some low-grade crack cocaine, I told you. Now go away before I throw up on your shoes.