Stumbling, Bumbling

Now this is more like it: a classic fuzzy Woundup post. We went to the sushi hut last night, where they whip their employees. Didn't see any whipping, but I toasted a couple of sakes to the westward development of dog salons down Division. Those dogs ate better than any of us did last night--and that includes the visiting Yamaha executives.

Add to that a couple brewtas at the ol' Darkroom and...Yes, here I am, back in the pressurized cabin. The co-pilot took the day off for the high holiday. The only substance in my body: Pepsi.

I have become an angry driver in Chicago and may have to be driven around like Keith Moon soon. I don't know how this happened to me. Erika's going to buy a straight jacket this weekend at the Hal Markofsky estate sale. It's hard to get that 1950's Bellevue quality anymore.

I Was in Line at the DMV...

I woke up after 6 a.m. and forced myself back to sleep, albeit pleasantly. I then had a dream I took Erika and Tim to visit Williamsville East High School--hated rival of my alma mater, Williamsville South. We drove down a tree-lined suburban street and pulled into East's parking lot. Then it jumped to a foyer in the school where someone was taking ID cards. I woke up shortly thereafter.

Does this mean anything? Probably not, but it's the freshest, most vivid thing in my mind this morning. I remember reading "The Adding Machine," in which William Burroughs said he got most of his story ideas from dreams. I've never tried it. I briefly kept a dream log about four years ago, and haven't thought much of it since.

June 2007 marks the five-year anniversary of my freedom from mental medication, which I had used for six years. I only mention this because mental medication all but eradicated my dream life during the time I took it. I never had very vivid dreams when I was younger, anyway, and that trend has continued as my dreams have returned. Regardless, I'm glad they're back and taking me to exciting places--like suburban Buffalo.

King Catch-up

They let us out early today due to the weather. That would've never happened at the old Cracker Factory. I hopped a cab, avoided a nasty snarl near the Ontario on-ramp and found myself at home by 2:15. I lit a cigar, poured a glass of sherry and put my feet up on the ottoman. Well, those last three were fictitious, but I felt that way inside.

It's fun to get a little snowed in. I keep reminding myself how much more intense the Upstate New York snow of my younger years was. A foot was nothing to Buffalo or Syracuse. It really takes a knockout, like the recent one near Watertown, to upset the locals.

A little wine, a little "Sanford and Son"... I hope you're in a warm place tonight, Woundup reader. Talk to you soon.

Pro Bowl

Wow, that might be the longest gap between posts in Woundup history. But don't worry. After a period of re-adjustment, Woundup is now back to begin content generation on a regular basis.

I look forward to more posts... what's that? You want a real post, not one of these "See you next time" deals? Oh...

Wow, there was a product placement for Smooking Loon wines in "A Scanner Darkly." That takes some balls. Almost as ballsy as the FTD Florist spot in "Apocalypse Now."