Complaints and Resolutions

Grand Rapids, MN--Sitting in a cafe in Grand Rapids, which just might be the single most depressing symbol of American industry's fading glory I have ever seen (which fact also points to a rather sheltered East Coast upbringing, but that's another story). It also happens to be Judy Garland's birthplace (ed.: big f***ing deal). Kayaked 16.5 miles today along another similarly depressing stretch of wetland, with nowhere to pull out and take a break, and so by the fourth hour I was exhausted but just wanted to get there and be done with it, you know, and when I got there I realized all my stuff and all the food were in the car with Eve and Richard in G.R., OK but then Eve texts me asking if she should come and bring me to G.R. and so it's all pretty much good (plus I slept for a little while before she got to camp). K so now that I've completed the Day's Redundancy of telling y'all what I did today (I saw an otter!--three, actually!) I can commence with the much more exciting task of describing my Thoughts: For there was ne'er a knave who tried/To keep his readers satisfied (or: don't f*** with this sh** y'all). (Also, a knave is a bad guy, right?)

What I learned today (for isn't all of life just one cosmic schooling of one's puny ass?):

1) Don't kayak 17 miles and then expect your writing to be cheery or comprehensible.

2) Birds following migratory patterns are unbelievably stupid (South south south south south river south south south) and should therefore be killed and devoured with great haste; I'm looking at you, C. Geese.

3) No matter how much you complain to the air/a kayak/God, the air/the kayak/God isn't listening, and it just makes you sound like a crazy person.

4) I haven't yet learned if flies or mosquitoes only operate within a certain radius or if they're just roamers, and I suppose honestly it wouldn't matter if I had--my strategy is still to just kill the whole f***ing lot of 'em (ed.: my, he sure is surly today, isn't he?).

Fuck! I need a new editor. This one's a replacement (the last one came down with swine flu and is using it as emotional blackmail, which is something I love about him but right now it's killing me) and he's a Bible-Belt closet case or something and he always speaks in proverbs (ed.: I sure as heck do not! What's a closet case?).

That's enough insight for today, folks: any more and it's just voyeurism.