go be a snake

Life. Life life life life. What the Hell. Last time I posted here with the utmost naivete... talking about happiness with such simplicity... like it was ever that easy? It never is. And that's the beauty of it, in retrospect. Right?

As I write this I am not sober... I am riding on a warm lovely wave of drunken buzziness that tingles my limbs and lubricates my brain... lately I am learning to love myself so much, and also to be easier on myself, and to take care of myself. And to recognize the BULLSHIT. And to call it out when I see it. Last time I posted here I had a 'boyfriend'. A 24-year old, motorcycle-racing, death-defying, drug-snorting boyfriend. And wtf was I thinking on that one? Yeah. 35-year-old midlife crisis insanity... riding on the back of a bike at 195 mph... playing with guns and snakes and all manner of dangerous things that I would normally have a much healthier sense of respect for... who knows what I was thinking? But I straightened my shit and dumped the loser, and I got it together again. Dumbass Shady!

Right now I am in such a state of pureness... so in touch with myself. I am in love with life. I am letting myself go. I am feeling it all. Yeah yeah fuckers I know- you're all like "daaaaamn she's so wasted right right now!" ... and yeah, I am! But I am being sincere. Life is good. Life is worth living. It really is.

So last post I mentioned that I had inherited a pet snake- a 4 foot+ bull snake- and last week, I walked out into the desert and set him free. I watched him slither into the sandy desert floor, watched him feeling his freedom at last... and I told him, "Go be a snake, old man"... and he sidewinded off into the wild. It was fucking beautiful.
I let a little piece of myself go with him, into the wild, into freedom. Viva!

taser guns + alcohol equals...

So last night we were hanging at my house when my crazy cousin Mike decided to see what it would be like to taser himself.

Here's what happened. Don't try this at home, kids.