So...regular readers may have noticed that I've got a lot going on at the moment, most of it firmly in the Not Good category (and I haven't even told you about my car accident yet). Those of you who have been around for a while have probably also noticed that I tend to get a bit emotional at times. I do not plan on changing this - it's kinda part of who I am. That said, though, I'm going to take a break from talking about relationship-type stuff and focus on other aspects of my life.

Stay well.

I am single again, after such a long and beautiful run. So many wonderful memories, meaningful conversations about anything and everything at all hours of the day and night.

It began with communication. It was the foundation of our relationship. We talked. She made the breath catch in my throat, made my heart beat faster, made my hands tremble. She still does.

I go to get a haircut, Bob is there. No woman, no cry, yadda yadda etc etc. I go to a restaurant for lunch, and Bob's there, too. Worse, UB40 is also there. UB40 makes everything worse. Waterboarding? That shit ain't nothin' without a little "Red Red Wine" in the background.

Now I'm at Starbucks, and the Reggae Assault continues. It's not that I don't like Bob Marley - I do. Sorta. But it's like he's HAUNTING me today.

Oh Sweet Baby Jesus. They just started playing Mambo #5.

Maybe I should have just stayed home today.

Dear Hobo,

I think I am addicted to carbs. I can't stop stuffing my face with chocolate, grilled sandwiches, cookies, and instant coffee. My butt is ginormous, and I can't bend from the waist anymore because I don't have a waist anymore. What should I do, and is there any chance it might involve eating even LESS vegetables than I currently do?

Sincerely,
I've Resorted To Wearing Clown Pants

Dear Rolls the Clown,

Have you considered a diet high in pigeon? Pigeon has a number of attributes that could help alleviate your problem.

Hello! I thought I'd preface my triumphant return with a complete and total lie. Hope you enjoyed it! I wanted to evoke something exotic, yet sarcastically cynical. It was either that or "Why I Put 43 Bullets in Andy Rooney".