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Tip, tap, nip — the rain sprung again.
The roof tapping its own rhythm — the rhythm of nature.
Simba, my orange furball, is stretched out on his corrugated cardboard right beside the old bluish club chair.
The ottoman is holding my cold-ass feet.
This cough I’ve been dealing with for almost two weeks has finally eased up a bit — thank God for modern medication.
I guess there’s value in not having to deal with it by candlelight like the good old days of horse-back riding —
Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker.
I’m enjoying Prometheus tonight.
Not the best story — but the sound design?
Beautiful.
And visually it’s outstanding — Ridley Scott standards, no doubt.
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