Oh yes: Fuck Jeff Wilson.

I mean I LIKE Jeff Wilson, but since my every thought turns to suicide, EXACTLY like they did at the conclusion of the last tour I feel compelled to forestall his highly sensible, existential riposte about how my so-called problems are really just "so-called" and have no bearing or weight in the "real" world where cancer is a killer, disintegration is inevitable and hearts are crushed EVERYDAY.

Fuck you, Jeff.

Because I'm in absolute misery and here I go trundling down the total road to gayness by referencing Apocalypse Now! I mean I always thought it a bit na�f when Rollins did it. Always felt that it was a bit like writing Zofo on your pants. Or like air guitaring to "SCHOOL'S OUT" at quitting time for your minimum-wage fuck you job.

HOWEVER, I was just listening to the soundtrack (I know, I KNOW it IS pathetic) and having an incredible moment of John Milius-itis during Willard's speech�

WHEN I WAS THERE I WANTED TO BE HERE. AND WHEN I WAS HERE I WANTED TO BE THERE.

Jesus. Truer words were never spoken Now I'm not even going to venture down that road of comparing touring to Vietnam like it's all that fucking tough to tour but it IS disorienting and even at this writing I don't know the date, the day, the time, and just barely the month. This is not hard. I mean this is not the hard part. Not being used to being here is the tough part and so these days I'm spending these days doing a lot of sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at my feet and waiting for my dog to die and am in abject, teenage misery.