Into the Great Unknown!


I am certain now to be a superstar.

Every man south of the Canadian border will do what I demand or they will go north of it.

That link's a video of me telling this jackass at The Park to stop spitting.

He sat behind me for at least an hour listening to me play and sing. Which I didn't like because he was preventing one or more of you from doing the same. He turned you away by his disgusting personage which included hacking coughing and spitting everywhere. 

I waited until I felt justified in letting him have it. Also because I didn't like him there, I let him stay for longer than I wanted. So I could practice playing under hostile conditions.

He left within five minutes of me threatening him. He was the kind of Park creep I goddamn love, dealing with. In my own special way which is to growl more convincingly than any other male. 

I LOVE IT! Being the badass of all badasses and I enjoy an even tougher cocksucker than him trying me. The scarier a man thinks he is, the more I enjoy proving he'll run the fuck away.

BUT NOT YOU LADIES! Spitfire! and Hurricane! alike, hear me. I am your gallant Congressman.

I had a fun conversation with a Hurricane yesterday. Ms. "Light of the Sea", from Columbia. I said hi as she sat with me while I set up. Then as I was about to start playing she got up to go and I said hi again because I was high, and then bye, and we started talking.

She gave me some delicious chocolate caramels. First she, very wonderfully and graciously, offered me money for my campaign which I had to politely refuse. 

Because I will never take a dollar from a voter.

She seemed hurt that I didn't want her kind gesture but I insisted how much I appreciated it and gave her a second calling card, and told her to give it to any friend. As that would be more helpful than the money anyway.

She liked that I appreciated her enthusiasm and didn't mind my demur after I gave her a better option.

I will win via word of mouth -- share and telling. Not via paid advertisement.

I call her a Hurricane because when I speak of a woman through no fault of their own I don't want to date, she's a Hurricane. A great and important aircraft during the Battle of Britain.

A woman I do want to date is a Spitfire.

I hope all of you don't mind the names.

I also handed out cards to three Hurricanes around a Palestinian flag. One of whom I'm sure I've met before. But she was nice and took another card.

Meanwhile I am getting, so, good, at playing music. I can play and sing along to any, song I like. My one string guitar is adaptable to every and all melodies. I match the parts sung and the instrumentals. You need to see it to believe it.

Today I need to resupply. So I won't be at The Park probably. I am bootstrapping everything I do. Which was awkward at first but now I am lightning fast at most things.

And very importantly I have a comfortable room. In a very cool hotel. Hotel 17. With my "printing press" set up. My laptop and Qwerkywriter keyboard. Ain't it cool?


Ain't I cool?

I can't wait to be the biggest thing to hit politics since Huey Long..com