Last night before I left Menomonie, WI, I wrote two blog entries and destroyed both by doing something stupid. I was so high I was beginning to wonder if I'd be safe on the road over here to Green Bay.

No, I was not taking drugs or imbibing any liquor. I was just higher than a kite and bouncing off the walls from that good ol' bipolar shit. Frankly, it felt good to be high, again. Why take drugs or drink liquor when I can get whacko all on my own? Of course, I tend to mess up on the serious stuff, but I'm having a blast doing it.

(I had to move the truck to put it into a dock and lost the entry, again. So, it's now my fourth attempt to write a little something. I hope they don't unload the diced onions too quickly. That's right, folks, I've got 46,600 pounds of frozen diced onions in my trailer. Boggles the mind, sometimes.)

So, anyway, both entries seemed to center around what I was listening to on my iTunes. Like, now, Del Shannon was singing "Runaway".

I killed off a popular character in my Schticky story and a few people have complained. They hope by some miracle he'll be coming back, which, to me, is kind of strange. Sure he was cute and, yes, he had sex with Spid, but he also had his father buy Spid from his family. Let me ask you, if you had the chance to buy a person just for sexual gratification, would you do it? Would your friends think highly of you? You know, of course, that you can buy a person for sexual gratification. There's quite a market out there for young nubile bodies who, properly trained, will doing practically anything for their bowl of gruel. Yes, he was cute, but some sins are never forgiven.

Now, we're having a bit of trouble with the language barrier. Sorry! I'm having fun with it anyway. But, not to worry, everything settles down eventually and everybody will be speaking English just like everyone else in the Universe. It's kind of comforting knowing you speak the one language everyone in the whole world understands.

You'll have to excuse me, but I'm not high this morning and my entry is suffering.

Plus, they've started unload the onions, so I'll have to leave soon, anyway.