Let me do the talking, angel. I don't know yet what I'm going to tell them. It'll be pretty close to the truth.

I have been awake now for thirty-four hours. In a row. Because of work. I think it is well past time that I stop being awake and cold and dirty. It is time for some sleep. I love you all but get the fuck out of here so I can catch some shut eye.

Peace out, bitches!

This man is black. We can all see that. But, can we also see as easily, that which is equally true? That he is the only true hero in this room.

Good speech. Good ending to a bad reign of witches (nods to T. Jefferson). Good surf. Good bowels. Good day. I think this calls for dinner at Harold & Belle's.

Peace out, bitches!

Here, take a cookie. I promise by the time you're done eating you'll feel right as rain.

Ah fuck! I'm still fucking sick! This is bullshit! Best swell in months, head high and over waves all up and down the coast, and I"m missing it because of diarrhea!? What the hell? That's it, I'm getting some Immodium AD and calling it a day. The house is a mess, the dog has got cabin fever, and the laundry is piling up. I've got things to do dammit! I'm also completely and utterly tired of chicken broth and chicken soup and just chicken in general. I want a spicy meal from Thailand or Indo or China. I want greasy goodness in a cheeseburger. I want hummus and kibbeh. In short, I want some real fucking food! Ahhhhh!

Peace out, bitches!

Ah, who am I kiddin'? Evewything fwom the waist down, is Kaput!

Still sick. Sat at home all day, shitting every hour. Had to cover myself at work. Awesome. This sucks. That is all.

Peace out, bitches!

She turned me into a newt! A newt? Well, it got better.

Ah, so reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated. What? Yes, I died for awhile yesterday but I've been reborn and am ready and willing to get back out there. I went hunting for ducks again (only four days left!) and bagged two. One Ruddy and, finally, one hen Shoveler. That's right, a Shoveler! Revenge is sweet. Following that Ghost and I decided to go shoot some quail, although I suspect he just wanted to run around like a jackass, which he did. The weirdest thing happened: midway through our wanderings I got incredibly nauseous and felt weak and basically collapsed. I sat for a minute, had some water, and tried to get up. We walked about a hundred yards and the same thing happened. I passed out for about half an hour and when I awoke Ghost was running in circles chasing finches. I realized I was either sick or hungry but definitely fucked as we were several miles from the car. Off we go and not ten minutes later I threw up and had to shit. Good times out in the bush. By the time we got back to the car I was more than a little concerned and my stomach was in knots. I tried to eat a PB&J and that bounced right out immediately. Not good, especially with an hour long drive ahead of me. I made it home but not before stopping several times to shit and I stopped a couple of times because the pain in my gut was making it hard for me to see. As luck would have it, I got home and passed out and Melah showed up with Gatorade and chicken broth. Lifesaver!

I feel completely better this morning but I think I'll take it slow anyway. What a weird way to end a hunting trip. Anyway, the ducks are going into a pasta dish, either ravioli or served on top of a bed of something. I love ravioli so...

Peace out, bitches!

What the hell is wrong with you? If you're with a woman for any length of time, eventually you'll ask her that question.

Never, under any circumstances, rush into a marriage because in doing so you will sow the seeds for a protracted and annoying parting of ways somewhere down the line. This is not to say you shouldn't get married, just take your time, weigh your options. Maybe watch for awhile, quietly, how the other person moves through the world. Are their movements graceful and in harmony with the world or are they more likely to smash through things as go around? Which do you prefer? Realize also, before you pop the question or say "yes" that the other person, much like you, is only going to become more what they are as time goes on. If you feel yourself changing, or worse, don't notice you've changed, you might be rushing into something you'll regret. I'm reminded of all of this or babbling about all of this because I just got my divorce paperwork and the ex is out for monetary revenge in an effort to soothe the insult of my affair. It has all boiled down to money: how much for how long and for what. For what, exactly? I suspect it is truly an act of revenge and a rather petty one at that but so be it, I'll pay because, paradoxically, I haven't the time or the money to not pay. It's a wonderful system we've created here: you're told you should get married as it'll be great for taxes (it isn't) and you'll live longer (yeah, right) and it's what's meant to be (I am not so sure about that) and it'll be great (in much the same way having a job you like is great: it's still a job). I think one of the greatest things we could do as a culture in which somewhere around half of all marriages end in divorce would be to require kids to take a class on marriage. They could look at the statistics on divorce and all the other ugly bits of the marriage contract. They could talk to happily married people. They could talk to divorcees. They could study the institution of marriage vis-a-vis religious institutions and the modern nation state. In short, they could get all the facts before they agreed to swallow the party line on marriage being the ultimate state of human bliss. It can be, if you know how much work is involved and have thus made an informed decision about the person with whom you're entering into the contract. Kids should learn that romance is not the only basis for a long lasting relationship. Yeah, it's awesome but are you going to keep it up forever? Odds are no, but that just makes the instances of romantic love over the course of a long relationship that much sweeter. Are you going to fight? Yep, and probably quite a bit but that ain't the end of the world. A well reasoned argument now and then can actually make a relationship better but it's best to get the fundamental ones out of the way before you get married. You know, get to know the other person before you potentially come to hate each other and then proceed to give them half your stuff.

Ah, but I ramble. In the end I guess the best thing to do is keep your mouth shut and your eyes and, in so far as they can, your ears open when you meet someone. Your first instinct about them is probably the right one and you should probably trust that part of your brain over the part that says, "to be an adult I must get married." That part of your brain is the childish part, the part that's still concerned with impressing everyone around you. Go for self and you'll wind up happier, or at least out of the morass that is the legalese of divorce settlements.

Peace out, bitches!

According to The Oxford English Dictionary, the word "snapshot" was originally a hunting term.

Ahhhh! Hunting is awesome but oh such a pain in the ass it can be! I went all the way up to the Kern National Wildlife Refuge and got my ass kicked. I got there late but got on the "free roam" area by 10am so I thought I was lucky. Goddamn I was wrong. The free roam area is a gigantic, thick, and unruly area of marsh at the south east corner of the refuge and, as the name implies, you set up your dekes wherever you want or roam around deke free. Hunters are responsible for making sure they're far enough apart so no one gets Cheyned. Aside from being difficult to get around in due to the thick reed cover you also have to navigate around all the other jackasses out there and the place is huge. I spent an hour walking in and out of marshland only to find every bit of open water already had someone camping out on it and boy oh boy, were they unhappy to have my dumb ass interrupting them. I was also overheating as I was carrying eighteen dekes, blind bag, gun, and wearing waders, a thick jacket and a beanie. About thirty minutes into my death march I had to stop and take off the beanie and stow the jacket in the deke bag and drop wader-trou. My shirt was absolutely drenched but when I had started walking it was freezing. Now the sun was high and the cloud cover had burned off. Go for heat exhaustion. I finally found a spot: small bit of water but shallow and reedy with cover all around, including some reeds that allowed me to sit on my little chair but be concealed. I threw out all eighteen dekes and set up shop and waited. And waited. And waited. Once again the Shovelers fucked with me and they are now my mortal enemy. My only goal for the last few days of the season is to kill as many Shovelers as possible. While they are fascinating looking birds they are now my sworn enemy. A couple flew bizarre patterns around my head but not one got close enough to pop. A huge flight of Green Wing Teal came straight at the spread and just as I was calling them in some lard-ass came tumbling through the bush and flared them off, never to be seen again. Literally, as I was drawing down on them he spooked them. Awesome. I stood up, he said "Oh, I didn't see you there." I replied, "Yeah, well, the birds definitely saw you." He looked confused and then sad and slunk off back into the primordial ooze to go find another pond to hunt. I tried calling. I tried not calling. I sat so still and quiet that I had a bird land on the barrel of the FNG. Some sort of long-legged black stork thing flew straight at me and freaked out about three feet from me when he realized I was there. All in all, very cool stuff but no ducks. Harumph!

On a more positive note, I then drove for nearly three hours to get to Doug and Meaghan's slice of heaven along the coast, just up from Goleta which is just up from Santa Barbara. They  are now the proud owners of some 2008 close-out baby girl twins who were born December 30th. Cuttin' it close, ladies. They're actually cute babies! I know most people always think babies are cute but I find them rather off-putting most of the time, at least in regards to their looks and lack of decorum. Ah, what a lovely family unit! I'm overjoyed that Doug and Meaghan have a little family and I'm slightly jealous but my time will come. We hung out for awhile, basking in the glow of two new lives just starting out on their journey but eventually I had to go home. Long drive, late night duck call practice, sleep. Good times.

Peace out, bitches!