today i'm in a food coma from feaster and the weather is raw and tired and tender or maybe it's just weather. weathered weather. it's not bad, unless you like good, and if you like it bad, it's good. i saw a new stone under a red maple honoring Max, a two year old who died, and i cried but my eyes were dry.

i feel kind of like this, without the cancer stick and the cosmic success, and without knowing at all how he feels. maybe he feels grrreat!

 and this is how my ghost wants to feel. my ghost wants to roll like mister.

but oh my dogs were soooo good today.