Busy. That's what's up. Good-busy. Money-making-busy.
Busy as all get-out. Busy as heck. Busy busy busy biz-eye. Already, just this short bit of blogging feels good inside my brain, like twiddling nobs at a mixing board, trimming back that hum, dialing-down that buzz, plugging in your SuperFuzz BigMuff and gettin' ready to lay down some tasty licks. Sustain your tone. Alriiight.
I'm a believer but not really a loving follower of Henry Ford's saying, "Lose the shoes, honey, you're walking silk runners from here til Sunday evening when the wife comes back from her hot springs."
Also, "The harder I work, the luckier I get." It's true, and for me it is very much the gasoline additive to the engine of the Law Of Attraction. The Law Of Attraction works by paying thousands of dollars to self-help schysters to sit on a dais and vaguely eschew the value of visualization and intent. It also works by deciding what you want to receive, visualizing it in your head with as much reality as you can - such as the feel of a steering wheel of the car you want, or the crack of a leather riding crop across the flanks - and feeling positive and happy about it. THEN, most importantly, letting that go and doing something else so you don't keep hashing it over and over in your head. That's noise. Static. Brain farts.
Just had my first chiropractic adjustment. Post-workout stiffness last Friday, while on my vacation, ushered me into the office. My right hip is about an inch lower than my left, rotating under, and thus shortening my right leg's stride, and causing much of my back tension, shoulder pain, foul language, and barely-veiled racism. Also, there's a major problem with my posture in that I need to be more erect from the head down. It all starts top-down. I need to make sure my head is up and I'm better aligned. No telling what's going on with my language when I'm not paying attention poopassfuckanoodle.
And some other shit happened and basically my entire home is an ergonomic nightmare.
Bye.
