The Deer Didn't Sign a Release, So They'll Threaten to Sue, I'm Sure...

Dear Miss Fenty...

...My name is Tigger Niglet, and I live down the road from Christopher "31 Flavors" Baskin-Robin in Storybrook, California, near the Mendocino Mountains (Surely you know of local archvillainess Clara Bell, often joked about stupidly by your fellow New Yorker Kristen Wiig? But I digress...)

I beg for things as cleverly as possible, and always have paper towels in hand with my glass cleaning spray whenever I occasion to jump on a motherfucker's windshield, but I've never been successful enough to afford your shoes -- not even in jest!

But if I could, I'd like to ask you for a pair of size 8 1/2 men's hightops, in red vermillion lacquer (maybe bits of black showing through, Japanese-style?); with Imperial Yellow soles, laces and inners? I would rock them at least twice a week for years!

***

I think about Mikey a lot. I think about... What if he was horribly disfigured by burn scars, like the Marine mechanics who survived that serious accidental ordnance explosion or whatever on the tarmac at Travis a few months ago? I know I'd still want him, no matter what (yes, physically...) 

707 USMC Mikey, where art thou??? Waaah...

***

[DECISIVELY]: "Get Jason Bourne -- at once!"

ANALYST [INSTANTLY CRINGING]: "Um, ma'am, then maybe you shouldn't have initiated exclusionary protocols... Are you really sure you want to go crawling on your hands and knees to Mr. Bourne now? After all that?"

(Honestly, Leah, Jo, et alia: what the fuck do those movies *do* with Joan Allen, anyway?)

***

San Franciscans and guests of San Francisco who will be in the City: several tours seem to be scheduled for visitors to tour Salesforce Tower. This one is sold out (still points to a waiting list), but check around for others, or make your own not-exactly-#disrupty attempts at meandering through it. At 326 meters tall, it's a pretty notable new landmark, and who knows? In any sort of collapse event, it might be one of America's new Towers of David! Exciting, to muse on the post-apocalyptic, n'est pas?

(photo by William R. Way, on an LG flip phone, end of September, 2017)

***

"I SWEAR BY THE [UNINTELLIGIBLE] -- SWEAR [GRUMBLE]" Hey, it ain't Richard III. Try doing Charles II instead - but you better hurry, before he goes out the window!

***

Today is Sunday, and I may yet prevail upon my soon-to-be-dearly-departed-so-I-had-better-spoil-her mother to lend me the car that I may attend (Methodist? I think so...) services at the local community church -- just to be a sport, ya dig?

(Please join me in gassho, and... Namo Amida Butsu!)

My Next Three Subjects to Photograph

Something Serious @ Local Law Enforcement

Officer: talk to me, your favorite #badgebunny...

...Was that apparent adult Caucasian woman, dark blonde in the white, four-door sedan (parked without emergency lights on, perilously close to the white line on the East side of Ladoga Stonyford Road 1 mile South of town) a - GULP - corpse??!!

It's not terribly good of anyone to leave it to the voices in *my* head to bestow peace of mind to me - a conscientious citizen who has nothing but Facebook to report the incident, thanks to some self-important so-and-so's delusional priorities, which are given enough sway roundabout these parts...

Shopping On Monday

***

Wish I had a sleepover buddy tonight...

***

If you think I'm worth reading and you're feeling generous, click the links to the right, you know?

(Raunchy, Maybe NSFW) Personal Growth Entry

Since landing in rural Northern California three years ago, I've had occasion to have physical copulation with any other men only when the opportunity arises during visits to San Francisco for other business. And all of my adult life, I've had sex only with other men who have sex more or less exclusively with men. I prefer the conventional routes of dating, cruising, and hooking up - ones that do not include "straight chasing" or cruising "rough trade" (how '70s!) One could even say I'm a tad chauvinist; I know I have missed many opportunities to innocently frolic with heterosexual men who for whatever reason are available to fornicate and are willing....

(I must at this juncture issue a blanket apology to my peers among straight guys. You have never done anything but the opposite of justify my fear of and unwillingness to socialize with you. Thank you to all the guys over the years who have been more friendly and respectful than maybe I think I deserve.)

So here I am, currently a free agent in lust, a stag at large (at least until such time as Mr. Mikey gets around to formalizing whatever we're wanting to do together), a perfectly fine buck who likes to doe up, surrounded here in the mountains by plenty of men (with the exception of two individuals) who I'd be happy and honored to go down on or give up free run of my insides, and to whom I would like to formally issue the following statement: "Thank you, gentlemen, for your clear support and celebration of who I am, and your apparent forgiveness in the face of my being an irrational, seemingly alienating bitch. You're much more discerning, by the way, than a very few local misandrist women give you credit for, and you're always welcome in my home."

Yes, that's a black hanky often out my back right pocket - any time you see me out and about, feel free to strike up a conversation, no matter how blue, and I'm there (among other reasons) TO be hit on. So hit me up - I'm happy to make your acquaintance, and sex you up... (For a good time, call Will at fouronefive-203-sixninefiveseven.)

Been A Lot of Boys V. Girls Lately...

...But we mustn't fall into that trap of being comfortable being the good guys in that arrangement...

...I need to lower my weapon, clear my breach. I must for Mikey, for Noni, for #zuckerberg, for Leah (Thomas AND Thompson) - HELL, for Miss M, Julia Louis-Dreyfuss AND Anna Faris - for Arthur and everyone. For me. So the ring - oval-cut emerald guarded on either side by white sapphires, the emerald's facets minutely ground to make it safe for a woman to sleep with it on her hand, yet... The ring is in my passport wallet. That's how I hold my "fence."

We n' de ya ho: I, William Robert Way, grandson of Lydia Harleman (German and Cherokee and what-all of Oklahoma), continue to hold the ring in trust until such time that I may hand it off to the proper Jew. (Obviously, I need a little help...)

Happy Xmas From Our Family To Yours...

...And do be sure to jingle all the way (nobody likes a fucking half-assed jingler, you dig?)

(And of course, donations are always welcome - if you're feeling generous, Paypal.me and Gofundme.com links in the right sidebar under my name... Thanks, and Happy Holidays!)

Part of my Art Collection

(Oil Can in acrylic on matte board by Mr. Rick Darnell)

(St. Valentine's Day woodblock print on paper by Mr. Rick Darnell)

Stonyford, Red Bluff, Corning...

...