Dear Boot Companies

When making knee high and over the calf boots, do you think you could take into account that those of us who do sports and workout do not have skinny fucking claves!  Your standard sizing of a 15 inch circumference will in NO WAY fit over my calves. 

These boots are totally cute as are other's like them.  I however have big muscled calves that have a circumference of 18.25 so unless I want to bunch them around my ankles, I can do nothing but wish they'd fit.      Do better!

Revenge Porn

I'd like to say, "What the actual fuck people?" but I cannot say that it surprises me at all.  Still I find it and things like upskirt photos and videos so fucking classless.  If it isn't consensual, it's  huge turn off and completely repulsive to me. 

We've all been hurt, and we have all, intentionally or otherwise hurt someone at sometime in our lives.  No one person is above it.  It sucks beyond the telling of it, and yes often times leaves unseen scars that have us second guessing the next partner that comes into our lives.  Unfairly too might I add.  Still we do it.  However to post on any website, another's images that in all reality were meant for your eyes only, that's just tacky,  The damage you do is beyond anything that you seem to realize. The same goes for hiden cameras, upsirt shots, groping unsuspecting people (men and women) and all that other shit so many of you fucked up twisted shits get off on. 

Grow up.

Waltzing into Hell

Did I ever regale you fellow readers of how I lost the most overtly religious friend I’ve ever had because she insisted I was hellbound over a pair of panties?  It's true of course, we are all keenly aware that if you believe in a place like hell and have come to understand me keenly enough that there will be a point where you will utter, "my god you're totally going to hell."  Come to think of it, stranger's utter it to me rather often.  In any case, I the queen of Pagan ways had one of the most overtly religious friends.

How was this even humanly possible?  Yes I am aware of the absurdity of it all too, but nevertheless I liked her.  She was in many way very kind.  Plus she was an animal lover so she couldn't be all bad right?  And then there was the fact that as different as my views can be she still wanted to be my friend, up and until the panty issue arose that is.  Now for all that I say, do, and believe; one would think that she'd have taken issue with who I was far sooner and over something far more substantial than a pair of barely there skivvies.  Alas no, it would be a scantily scarcely there set of skivvies that broke the christians moral dilemma of befriending me.

I remember laughing so hard that my sides hurt and tears ran down my face at her reaction to them.  To this day I cannot help but grin when remembering the look upon her face.  It was as though I had said to her that there was indeed no god and that her mother was once a junkie whore all rolled into one.  Her disgust was palpable, her rage tangible, and her shrieking...it was legendary.  You'd have thought that would have been her reaction to my pro-choice stance and not a pair of oh-la-la undies, but no I was setting trends and swinging for the fences.

I do wonder how the uptight young woman is every now and then, and wonder if her panties are still in a twist.  Then I picture her in granny panties and just smile.

Gorilla Glue and Boxed Dreams

I stopped by my friends today.  He's in the middle of packing to move way way far away.  I'm happy for him and sad for me but still smiling outwardly.  He totally gets it, which makes me just that much sadder.  Today was not a day for that sadness that envelopes you when a real friend, the kid that understands you, knows your darkness and still loves you is moving away.  Today was a day for helping and teasing, and laughing at the knowledge his apartment is totally on my side.

I swear his place is possessed and it totally gets how I feel about his moving away.  Not only does it understand how I feel but it's punishing him for leaving.  I walked through his place packing this and that, helping clean things as I went and his apartment seems to have taken on a life of it's own and is punishing him for leaving us soon because everything is breaking.  By the gods it's hilarious!  Well maybe for me, not so much for him.  It's not like he can just drop wads of cash left and right to fix shit either.  We all expect small stuff to break from time to time but in the last week, his lights went. ALL of them, and not just new bulbs needed kind of went.  Then his sturdy and well mounted curtain rods completely came crashing off the wall.  Like his apartment is throwing this hissy fit and shouting, "if you want to leave then just go now!!"  He's gotten to the point where he'll roll his eyes and just mutter, "fuck it all, whats next?"  So he's changing in the bathroom because the entire neighbourhood gets to see into any room all hours of the day.  I actually felt bad for a few minutes and thumbtacked a sheet up, but that too seemed to take it revenge and hoist it's self off the wall spraying thumbtacks everywhere.  Now not only is his flashing the neighbours but he's doing it in running shoes because we can't seem to find all the tacks until they are being stepped on. 

Last night he called me ranting about the freezer.  It, well it just quit freezing.  His coat closet door is jammed, and tank on the toilet has begun to crack.  It is as if literally everything in his apartment got together for a meeting of the minds and decided, "let's just fucking drive this traitor out of his mind."  and in a general consensus they said, "yes! and let's do it the week before he leaves. That'll teach him for abandoning us."

Jordan, from Brazil asks:

I've been lurking around your blog for a long time now.  I like your humor, it reminds me of my cousins.  I also like reading about your rescue work and how you are even now dealing with a aggressive dog in your house.  I feel like I would be too scared to have a dog like yours.  Does she scare you?  Do you ever think you will do something else and not rescue anymore?  Does she make it hard to go out or to have a party at your house?  I have so many questions bubbling up in my mind to ask you, but I will maybe write to you again for those.  My last question to you is, what drives you to keep going?

Hello there Jordan,

I have to say your email was quite possibly one of the more in depth ones in regards to my rescue work.  First I want to thank you for taking the time to email and ask.  I am open to all questions and will happily do my best to answer them.  Especially in this case where it's about my soul mates; the dogs!  Anytime I can expand knowledge regarding rescue, and better the lives of those often forgotten.

I can understand your fear in regards to Mako and dogs like her.  I cannot say that I have ever been afraid of her.  I am fully aware of what she is capable of, and I've seen her go full on stupid.  It's a sobering experience and one that reminds me of my responsibility of not only her safety but everyone around her; animals and humans alike.  I'm no superhuman, so yes I have the all those great and terrible emotions that all other humans possess; I however cannot allow those emotions to be shown within my home.  Like all animals, rescues especially feed off of our emotions.  With that being said, it is very critical that we maintain a calm demeanour in our home so that our animals remain as calm as they can be.

As far as ever hangin up my leashes.  No, is the simple answer.  As I age, I am 43 now; I may have to scale back on how many animals I take on, and I may need to reexamine the size and temperament of the animals I also take on.  In the end, rescue is about better the life of an animal who requires a second chance.  As such it is important that I be in the proper position to better their lives and not cause them more harm.  This would be why I do not have parties or large groups of people over in my home.  Mako is particular in who she warms to and trusts.  She can seem very interested in someone who comes over which can lead her to being in an over active frame of mind which can pose large problems.  Until I have temperment tested her with someone and know that she is sound, she remains muzzled around anyone new in our home.  Yes, having rescues; Mako in particular with her social issues does make it difficult to go out and do spur of the moment things.  I have to plan ahead for everything and ensure that my being gone is not going to adversely affect her.

So what drives me to keep going?  My absolute love of animals.  My greatest desire is to 'Save Them All'  For all of the times in my life when the chips where down and I needed that sympathetic ear, or someone to simply love me just as I am without judgement or hesitation; it was a dog.  And honouring that kind of loyalty, devotion, and unconditional love should never look like the image below.

Vick has not served his time.  His actions are unforgivable.  They are the actions of a monster whom has no right being allowed out into society let alone given a key to any city.  Dallas, Texas should be ashamed!  Where Vick is concerned, he'll never get it.  When we speak out we are speaking to all those surrounding him and cheering him on as though he's a hero?  

Michael Vick  IS A MONSTER

So yes I am driven to do far better, and show these amazing creatures that life does not have to hurt.  Love, is gentle and kind, and it never asks you to do harm for profit.  But I do believe that Francis said it best when he said:

"Our north star was kindness, kindness to animals, kindness to each other.  There is an artificial distance put between ourselves and these animals.  We pride ourselves and give ourselves a special place because we make all of these things, and we talk and we write.  But when you get to know the animals and see the richness of their lives and the depth of their feelings and their intelligence.  The grounding that they give us, the link that they give us to nature.  

Its not that they are distant at all, these are our brother and sister creatures.  The lives of all of these animals have intrinsic value… they’re not ours to dispose of or to discard. There is no small life or insignificant life that doesn’t matter.  If Best Friends stands for anything it's the testament to following that dream and doing what you know to be the right thing to do.  You may not change the world, but you'll have a good time trying."

Best Friends' philosophy, as expressed by cofounder Francis Battista

If I can even encourage just one person to sit down and watch The Champions, a documentary film by Darcy Dennett, which can be viewed on Netflix or downloaded via the link above; I'm glad.  It will help you understand why we do what we do, but more over why it is so important to do what we do.  The stigma and false information that surrounds dogs whom need a second chance is like a loaded gun aimed at some amazing animals.  It's is unjust and it needs to end.  It among a few other reasons is my driving force for speaking out against PETA.  They are not ethical in their treatment of animals and in many cases are just as bad as the abusers that animals are rescued from.  BAD RAP crew, Best Friends, New York Bully Crew, Rebecca Corry, 6 legs Foundation and other's are far more worthy of attention and praise; just to name a few
.

Part of my pack enjoying some playtime and working on socialization. 

I do so loathe double standards, and idiocy

For as far back as I can remember, I've always hated double standards.  Yet they pop up in daily life like flies seeking out shit to swarm around.  I remember the anger that boiled my blood the first time I saw a moronic (at best) youtuber, pro sexual assault promoter (in reality) post one of those videos where the guy runs around groping women, or forcing them to kiss him.  How I longed to reach through the screen and physically beat him to death with his own limbs.  His behavior while completely deplorable was not all that surprising.  What was surprising were those that found the actions funny, cool, acceptable, or exciting.  Every like had me homicidal.  There's little else outside of animal or child abuse that angers me more than sexual assault.  Yes even in a "parody video" that all in good fun!!

Are you fucking kidding me!

There's a new clip floating around instagram.  It's a "parody" of the women running around grabbing mens crotches.  You know which makes it okay.  Or at least that's the angry responses when I stand my ground and call it out as utter bullshit and openly state that promoting such things is fucking stupid.  One man seemed surprised and thought my response of, "the women filming themselves groping men should be charged with assault" was hilarious.  Saying that only I would claim such things.  Excuse me?  I cannot be the only human, gender here need not apply; who finds sexual assault unforgivable and certainly not funny in the least. 

Now you want to play devils advocate?  Okay lets.  I am not one above posting, saying, or standing up for things that others will find offensive.  So I am certainly open to having my thoughts picked apart just as readily as I will pick apart someone else's.  So let's see this video for what it is.  A parody.  Alright, it's a parody of another social injustice.  We've seen many parody's over the years, some funny, some tacky, some just plain dumb.  I however cannot find anything about sexual assault, parody worthy.  Do you really find it funny?  I cannot understand anyone whom does.

What's next parody's of rape?

The Champions: A Must Watch

Champions Documentary

Over-praising

These are actual compliments

Compliments are great.  Who doesn't like a meaningful compliment.  From the simple, "you look lovely, or you smell great," to the more in depth, "Great job, you really pulled that all together and present a well thought out argument."  Both of course make me smile, but having someone recognize my brains over my body gives me a little extra happy.  I never understood those whom couldn't take a compliment.  How hard is it to smile and say "thank you."  Just as kisses aren't contracts, neither are compliments.  So then if I enjoy a well made compliment, what's wrong with someone doting that attention upon you all the time?  and why do I become so blase when men compliment me on having, "a great ass!"  

The simple answer is, nothing if the compliment is genuine and based in truth.  When praising someone is used as manipulation however, it is not only annoying, it is destructive.  Being recognized for what you do, or who you are; well it just feels good.  The dark side to it comes into play when the one offering the praise is doing so as verbal bribery.  We've all encountered those so insecure that they feel the only way to garner your attention is to kiss your ass.  That jag gets old fast.  Much the same does the one attempting to butter you up, be it for personal or business gain.  The complimenting in those cases is all about manipulating you to do what they want.  One of my suitors whom was well aware of my general dislike of high heels.  For me, they are torture devices that unless made specifically for my "dancers feet" cause excruciating pain.  I would much rather be comfortable than force myself into another ideal of a beauty standard.  Yet here came Mr. Compliment, with his, "Babe you look so sexy in those 6 inch heels.  God you're beautiful when you wear them for me."  That compliment much like the "you've a great ass," which more often than not is followed up with "I'd like to be behind you right now."  Has absolutely nothing to do with actually complimenting me.  It is nothing more than a manipulator used as a jumping point for the other to tell me what it is the want and desire. 

Now to my mind, I'm beautiful regardless as the footwear, makeup, or clothing style I choose.  So this tactic does nothing for me.  And my ass, large as it may be in comparison to another's; is not different from anyone else's in it functionality.  I am not insecure, but for those whom are and require compliments to feel good about themselves will sadly fall for such ploys.  I'd rather eat dirt.  Then there are those that use praise or compliments to condition another.  Parents, boyfriends, bosses, and teachers alike and so many others can fall into this category.  In the interest of keeping it very simple (overly so)  praise as a conditioning tool is widely seen as abuse.  Many of these so-called “caregivers types” use praise not to raise self esteem, encourage kinder, more considerate or virtuous behavior, but to reinforce conduct that simply makes their victims more compliant, pliable, or easier to deal with.  So, if the complimentee's needs represent a nuisance or inconvenience for them, they often—through highly selective, manipulative praise—systematically encourage that person to refrain from sharing or asserting their thoughts, feelings, wants or needs.  Indirectly, they may cause the individual to feel that they’re good or worthy only when they’re focusing exclusively on the partner's needs.  Treating anyone in this manner warrants being seen as psychologically abusive, for seeking to mold anyone to conform to the another's selfish desires forces the victim to renounce their own quite legitimate wants and needs—unless, that is, they flat out rebel against such dictates, which, regrettably, has its own serious mental and emotional repercussions.

These are not: They have nothing to do with who or what the person is.

Running With Wolves

The beauty of being in the north is the wildlife.  There is such a variety of natural beauty that surrounds us at any given time, be it summer, winter, spring, or fall.  Today was a day for the wolf.  Running full tilt, along the side of the road showing the world the beauty in power and grace.  I cannot express how pleased I am that nary a soul panicked calling out for the destruction of such a stunning creature.  All went along their merry ways, smiling and in total awe of such wonders.

Run free my friend, you will forever make me smile just that much more.

My rescue has me encountering so many different animals, domestic to wild.  My three wolves are not as human friendly, at least not with those outside of us whom work with them daily.  I like it that way.  I am still a firm believer that wildlife should remain wild.  I am not now, nor have I ever been pleased with those whom take animals whom are meant to remain wild and making them pets.  We have truly screwed with their natural habitats enough, and to add this insult of trying to make them pets...it's unconscionable.  Almost as unconscionable as those who partake in the culling of wolves, also known as the slaughter of wolves.  A special place in hell awaits those people. 

Day of Snakes

St Patrick was as Irish as...well, he wasn’t really Irish at all

The patron saint of Ireland that everyone celebrates on the 17th of March wasn’t Irish at all but British.  

Legend tells it that in addition to introducing Christianity to Ireland, St. Patrick banished all the snakes from the Emerald Isle, chasing them into the sea from atop a cliff where he had undertaken a 40-day fast. ... The truth is that there were never any snakes in Ireland to begin with. 

Mark Ryan, director of the Louisiana Poison Center at the Louisiana State University Health Sciences Center in Shreveport, said in 2008 that the timing wasn't right for the sensitive, cold-blooded reptiles to expand their range. 

"There are no snakes in Ireland for the simple reason they couldn't get there because the climate wasn't favorable for them to be there," he said. 

Other reptiles didn't make it either, except for one: the common or viviparous lizard. Ireland's only native reptile, the species must have arrived within the last 10,000 years, according to Monaghan. 


Happy St. Patrick’s Day? I Don’t Think So.

Despite how it’s celebrated by you,  St. Patrick’s Day is a religious holiday.  It’s a Christian holiday. At one point it was (and in Ireland still is) a holy day of obligation in the Catholic Church.  It’s a holiday commemorating the conversion of Ireland to Christianity.  Its celebrations may have become more secular over the years, but at its origin, it’s a celebration of religious colonialism and the destruction of indigenous traditions inherent in the work of this man for whom it is named.  Why, in the name of all that’s sacred, would I as a Pagan woman, celebrate that? Why would any non Christian?  For many Pagan's and especially Druids St. Patrick's Day isn't a day of celebrations, as they see Patrick, famously attributed with converting Ireland to Christianity, as committing something akin to cultural genocide.

The "snakes" that Patrick drove out of Ireland were the Druidic priests, whom had serpents tattooed on their forearms. Celebrating him is like celebrating Stalin or Hitler. 

A fellow Pagan and author Isaac Bonewits called the day "All Snakes Day", and penned songs calling for the return of the "snakes" that Patrick is attributed to having driven out.  As a devout Pagan, and someone working very hard to restore and rebuild the very faiths people like Patrick sundered, I would rather cut off an arm than put on the green for St. Patrick’s Day.


I on 'All Snakes Day" have for many ears now chosen a God or Goddess of Pagan Ireland and celebrate Them.  Embracing the ways of old, with offerings of wine and food.  I’m both Irish and Pagan and by doing this, embracing my rich history and beliefs I am spitting in the eye of St. Patrick and his Church’s agenda of wholesale Christianization. It’s a small thing, granted, but if we attend to the small things, the large have a way of handling themselves. By doing this we’re making a statement before our ancestors and Gods. We’re saying ‘we remember You. You’re not forgotten. Christianity did not win. We’re still here. And so are You.”

Blessings to the three realms which connect us to, sky, sea, and land.

Walk in beauty my friends.

The Beer Guy

I starting talking to TBG almost two weeks ago.  He was direct, upfront and open about his interest in meeting and getting to know me in person.  Something I hold in high regard.  We had some great phone conversations and thus set up a time to meet and enjoy some live music.  TBG was shorter than I typically go for but over all a decent looking man.  Within 5 minutes of attempted face to face conversation however, it was clear that keeping the conversation going was going to be up to me. 

Now I always take into account that someone might be nervous on the face to face meeting and happily try to take away the stress.  I will however try to get the person to open up and to also see if they can handle me.  I'm not for the faint of heart as you are all aware.  There are a few items that I do like to get out of the way before either of us waste anymore of our time.  Knowing how someone handles stress, what their thoughts are on racism and LGBT right, and of course are they actual animal lovers.  I have to give TBG credit for landing two out the three without batting an eye. 

While I did my very best to keep everything light and friendly, through the entire conversation TBG made little to no eye-contact, and when another paid me a compliment he was visibly annoyed.  The stranger had said nothing more than he adored my hair.  Noting that not many could pull off a mohawk and still look soft.  It was a compliment, nothing more and nothing less.  It was sweet and made me smile.  TBG was openly jealous.  Yuck.  Insecurity is so unattractive, and such a huge warning bell for me.  It was becoming more and more obvious that between the two of us I was the one who had the bigger penis.  Ha!  This of course annoyed me, so I stopped being subtle in my conversation.  The kid gloves had to come off and it was time to see what he was really made of. 

He failed horribly.  Not only was he insecure and jealous.  TBG was homophobic.  Double yuck!  His rigid frame and looking directly ahead, no eye contact form was a wall of ugliness that made me laugh.  I've come to a point in my life where I'm not even surprised by these things, I just find them and the person one big dumb joke.  We finished off our appetizers and called it a night.  As I changed and got comfortable TBG actually texted me to ask if I wanted to have a "sleep over" stating that he was hoping I would come back home with him.  Once I had stopped laughing and showing my daughter the text, both she and I sat with tea chuckling about how damn difficult it was for me to find a man of substance, but who was still open minded enough to also accept that I think a little more outside the box than most.  We've come to the conclusion that while my dating is necessary, in the end it is probably best that I accept the likelihood that I will remain single forever. 

I might need to change my stance on fuckboys.  I won't have to talk to them will I?

Christopher Asks:

What do you believe that not many other people do? (i.e., what are some of your unpopular opinions?)

Oh bless your heart, most of my opinions seem to be pretty unpopular most days.  I'm not one to shy away from a verbal volleying of ideas, and when it's with someone who can share with me their viewpoints without either of us slandering the other I'm so happy.  But hey this is the internet and more often than not people either run screaming, or just think I'm a fat lesbian.  At least that seems to be the popular go to slam.  So my go to hot button opinions seem to be:

*Animals are better than people.  Harambe's death was avoidable and yes I would have been ok if the kid didn't make it sad as that is.  I'm reminded of a young girls death, many many years ago at the Met.  She was on a school trip and chose to slide down the large marble railings there from something like the 2nd or 3rd level.  She didn't make it of course.  People were crying and asking why and talking about the wasted life of one so young..... I was shaking my head and thinking, "natural selection works."  At some point we've got to realize culling the herd isn't as bad as it seems.  Yeah that tends to piss people off.

*I am a liberal whom thinks gun control is both good and bad.  I always carry a knife.

*I'm Pro Choice (not pro abortion, most days)


*Zoo's should be set up in a manner that the animals run free and the humans are in cages should they wish to go.

*Marriage is laughable. I am in awe of those whom make it last and work, but I don't believe marriage is good for me.

*P0rn isn't evil.

*Men whom have ass fetishes and lurve anal, 95% of the time are shitty lovers. (pun not actually intended butt humorous to me now)

*All men are not created equal, nor are all women.  Different is good and individuality should be celebrated.

*Fashion policing (ie: pull up your pants or you can't shop here) is so damn stupid!

*Animated TV or movies are more fun to watch than real people TV or movies.

*Washing your hair every day is a silly thing to do. Plus it's bad for your hair.

*Dressing up for a partner is stupid.

*Men and women can be just friends.

*Any and all testing done on animals for human benefit is wrong.  Yes even for medical advancement.

Of course there are many other unpopular opinions that I hold but those are the ones that popped into my head first.  As always these are just my thoughts, now go have a few of your own.

Here's Your Sign

We're a motley crew, with a humor that would make any HR department head vomit in his mouth, repeatedly.  Some work like they were built for such things, while others; well we apparently keep them around for comic relief.   Kenny, if the name was indication enough is a grand bit humorous antidote.  For a time he rode his bike to work.  A bicycle, not a motorcycle to be clear.  A bike that he used in good measure until it and he met with a sign from above.  A big red STOP sign that is.  To date we are unsure how he ran over the sign; on his bicycle.  But run it over he did indeed.  Hit it hard enough to leave the entire twisted mess on a 45 degree angle.  Seriously.

How does one run over a stop sign on a bicycle?  We've hypothesized, sketched out the path and trajectory, pondered, and laughed until the tears flowed like a heavy rainfall.  Kenny for his part cannot seem to explain in any further detail than what we can come up, not how this event occurred or how he came to be missing so many fingers.  Then again, maybe he likes I our theories better.  Suffice to say the only real evidence we have is the mangled stop sign, and the vast amount of heavy bruises mottling Kenny's entire physique.  To the naked eye, I can state that the stop sign for all it's wreckage of cold metal, won. 

Fast forward a few months, and Kenny had saved up enough for a truly stellar heap of potentially heinous vehicular man-slaughtering junk.  It's as though anything involving metal would ultimately be Kenny's downfall.  Or maybe that was just my take on it all.  Still I cannot say that I was far from the mark when I first laid eyes on the...car?  You see Kenny found public transportation disagreeable.  Even more so than the physical damage he did to inanimate objects, not to mention himself when he was in control of the wheel.  Thus the heap of what can only be described as scrap metal was purchased.  Unseen.  Yes, you read that correctly. 

Kenny saw an ad you see.  An ad that offered a "running beater" for best offer.  He offered $200 and was told that he could have both sets of tires for that fine amount.  This to our minds; those minds unencumbered by repeated trauma that is; found this to be a massive warning.  Kenny however whooped and cheered his good fortune.  A fortune I am still awaiting the arrival of.  The car? of his dreams was delivered, yet unseen via tow truck.  This did nothing to dissuade Kenny's elation at having a four wheeled chariot that was now all his own.  That was until he popped the hood; for a brief moment I saw Kenny's joy falter but was soon replaced with a renewed happiness.  Not only did Kenny have a car, but he had a project. You see Kenny's new chariot had a dust problem.  If by dust you understand it to mean an engine full of sand.

Oh boy.  

It took Kenny a few weeks, but remove all, or almost all the sand he did.  As the engine sputtered roared to life so did Kenny's spirit.  For all his quirks and oddities, I must give the man credit for unending optimism.  In no short order Kenny was driving himself to work.  Proud to have wheels all his own.  A man of the road once more.  I, for all my optimism gave Kenny and his car a very wide birth; never taking for granted that being upon the sidewalk was to be a safe haven.  Need I remind you of his track record thus far?  Not to mention I still have nary a clue as to why he is short so many digits upon each hand. 

One particularly frigid evening as I was about to walk my way home, Kenny appeared keys in hand and smile brilliant upon his grubby face.  Jade, no need to walk hun, it's too cold!  Come, I'll drive you.  I am uncertain what cosmic events or sudden onset of cerebral apoplexy overtook me, but get in Kharon's ferry but get in it I did.  As I searched my pockets for the gold coins required of such a ride, as Kenny turned the key.  Doing my level best to ensure Kharon was paid in full lest I be swept away into the depths of the Styx.  I awaited the the tell tale whirl of the fan kicking in offering us some warmth within the safety of this, vehicle protecting us from the elements.  What came to pass had me quite literally gobsmacked. 

There was no whir to be heard or felt.  I reached for the knobs upon the dash to ensure they were indeed in the on position.  Kenny smiled at me like a parent about to tell their slightly daft child some truth that was yet unknown.  "The heater doesn't work.  Actually I don't even this there is a fan.." he continued.  I stopped listening somewhere between doesn't work, and the backfiring of the engine that followed.  I was going to die.  It was time for my heathen phatass to pray to my heathen gods.  I was so caught up in my thoughts and prayers that I didn't quite catch the following diatribe, but snapped my head back around as a lit candle was foisted into my rather numb hands. 

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

"This will keep you warm!" Kenny happily chattered away.  I did my best to retain the scarce eyebrows I possessed.  It was the first and last time I rode with Kenny.  Opting to flag down men offering candy from the half opened windows of unmarked white vans.  I've found that after 5 full nonstop minutes of 100 questions they are more than happy to drop me off anywhere I want to go.

Where the road ends

On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair 

Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air 

Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light 

My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim 

I had to stop for the night. 

-Eagles

 There is a deep sense of peace driving through the desert.  It is so pervasive that it seeps deep into the core of your soul, and nourishes you like only a handful of things for me to date.  The isolation, the sounds, and the scent of the earth making you feel at one with the night.  Gazing up at the stars like fireflies swarming in the sky, breathtaking.  Listening to the life of the desert carry on the all too uncommon breeze, coyote's, frogs, owls, rodents, small mammals, the occasional rattle of sidewinders and hum of insects.  Driving until there's no more road, and dust is all that follows you.  Like being far out in deep waters, it is a place where you can loose and find yourself all within the same breath.