In the beginning, Dog

(Before there were blogs, there was Fred Primus' Groin Jazz. I will repost those original musings here, because I love you and you are important and I want you to be happy.)

I have had my job taken from me by Tygroin International. You may have heard of them. They were founded by some Danish vampyres a long time ago in order to make bloodsucking and debauchery that much easier.

I know, that sounds pretty cool. And it is, until it happens to you. I am not one of them. I save my vampyric tendencies for teenaged girls and unsuspecting gamblers.

I’m not quite drunk yet, although I’m working on beer #6 and it’s 16:10 by my atomic clock.

Look, I’m getting paid for the next 8 months either way, so can you tell me what you would do? I’m not exactly overwhelmed with plans.

My alleged woman is killing me. She is not cool. Do you understand that, like saying “You used to be cool, man.” You see what I mean? She doesn’t booze. She doesn’t eat oregano. Heh heh. I am getting paid for the next 8 months and she is going to have a massive freak out when she perceives my desire to get on the road and “see the world.” Oh don’t get me wrong, I’ve seen a lot of it already, but not in the way I’d like to see it (i.e., the “mental state” in which I’d like to see it has not been fully explored yet) and not exactly the proper locations to match my new desires. Take that as you will.