…bit of an update. If you have my phone number and you’ve been texting me, please don’t do so any longer. (By the way, I think “texting” should be allowed verb status here since it’s everyday vernacular, and who knows, maybe it’s already in the dictionary with double-definitions. Are we cool? Cool.)

About a week ago now(?), my phone stopped delivering my text messages. No message comes in and, no little message symbol shows up on my phone telling me a message came in, no little bing (alerting me that, “Hey, you’ve got a message from someone! It’s probably super-important!”) comes in, either. All I get is a little notification telling me I’ve been charged 20 cents. Whoopee.

So I don’t know who texts me, so I’m asking that if you’re reading (which you are) don’t text for now. I know a few people who have done it and we’ve talked (so you could probably just ignore this long-winded blathering right now), but there’s still at least one of you out there. The boys down at the lab are working on it; triangulating positions, watching the airwaves. They’re working in shifts. Much like Terry’s determination to find Hopkin, I will get to the bottom of this if I looking for them. (Who took my text messages? Who found them?)

Seems like I had something I wanted to say, but for the life of me, I can’t remember what it was. HeadlessBuddha (NSFW) has been keeping me occupado. I think I’ll be fully launched by the first of next week. Three weeks late, but still. I’m hoping tonight to bring out the general layout onto the front page.

Hm. Just noticed that the checkout girl at Walgreen’s gave me Camel Lights Wides. I walked out of Walgreen’s and looked in my bag, too. I had a donut in there for the guy outside. He also asked if I could give him change on the way out, too. I gave him a couple of dollars. I don’t think he’s homeless, but he kinda looks it. Really needs to do something with that hair of his.

He’s an interesting guy. Kept seeing him around from almost the day I moved to South Beach, and then one day I asked him for his portrait. Actually, I think he asked me to take it. Yeah, he did. Outside Meridian Market on 6th. Anyway, we talk whenever we see each other, which is usually outside of Walgreen’s when I go. He’s just standing there, waiting for something. Or money. He asked me once how much I would charge for a photoshoot of him. I think I gave him a low estimate. It would be interesting. He’s… what’s the term I’m looking for… a trannie? Or maybe just a cross-dresser, although he’s never cross-dressed. But he wanted to shoot in gowns.

If I remember correctly, anyway. My memory is just shot for remembering things any longer.

The Camel Lights Wides look like very manly cigarettes to smoke. I think I’ll smoke one now.

PS, I’ll find my frog.