Spent my thursday morning chained up to a tree outside for like hours and hours in the 17-degree, snowy weather knittling and whitting my toils away (seldom works) until I literally began to lose senstation in some of them damn bones and fingers.
damn chain on the pennyfarthing Quincy Adams kept circling me with kept acting up, spitting dirt and mud and slush in mah face as I worked. In the wind... in the wind...
But I made it through the wilderness, that cold and rancorous day, somehow I made it through (oh yeah)... and been back in my miserable little hovel ever since.
oh, the places you'll go.
Current Mood:
all fucked to hell
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