A blinker awaits.
Blink blink. Blink blink.
The only way to stop
the blinking is to type.
Please excuse the frantic
pace, the sense of running
from something. If I
stop, the cursor starts
The battle is not lost if you’re still
around to bitch about it. Armies,
Skittles, Coca Cola and a hairbrush.
These are things that cloud your
mind on a Sunday night.
There’s work and school to
think about. You’d rather
drink a beer, eat some trout.
You’d like to read
and write and sleep til noon. Not
gonna happen, no restaurant,
Without the will to lick a popsicle on a
hot summer day, you might wind up
reading the Wall Street Journal
in an armchair on Armistice Day.
We bought two radio stations in 2004. For the most of the 14 years since, we haven’t done any marketing. Enough money trickles in on its own in to support the operation. Whatever is left over, I invest in streaming video.
So what we have is basically two operations.