...rockin' the mic.

Wow, it's been a month since I posted anything.  And damn, I should have.

I had to actually look back to see what happened last.  Leaving it at a diatribe directed at the lie of my life (the Succubus) was not a way.  But considering what came next, it was due.

First of all, I managed to celebrate yet another birthday (and failed to post a tribute to my age, counted in blowjobs, which I shall now do):



After the birthday meh-ness came some festival fun to round out the weekend.

Yeah, it's a cute contest.

And if you're not following me on Twitter (@patrickmspeaks (and shame, shame, shame)), then these pics are new.

And then came the liberation of my hours, kindergarten.  Yeah.  Shipped the boy off.  Special classroom for the autism thing, but sometimes, you gotta.

Thankfully, he's thriving.  As in talking.  And responding to questions.  He still slips into his world often enough.  But he's doing more actual engagement, rather than observation (a habit that marked the early years).

We've settled into quite the pattern now, as i'm working first shift.  Next year, when both kids are rocking school full time, then I'll have whole hours to work, clean, masturbate, etc....

(...as though you expected me to get through a post without a masturbatory reference.)

But my greatest achievement of the past month was a simple $10 investment in happiness, and bought my children's love for at least 15 minutes.

Yep.  Secondhand swing set.  It's rusty, it's worn.  I had to patch at least two places to make it structurally sound. And it looks like a creaky, barely operational piece of shit.

And they love it.

This pic is from the first day they got on it.  I haven't mowed since, partially because the grass under it is dead and worn away underneath the sonofabitch.  I've already had to move it once.  I'll have to move it again.  Because they and the upstairs neighbor kids are wearing it out (which was the plan).

*cheers for parenting win*

So between the kids, and neighbors, and my buddy Larry, who is settling back into life after a decade plus living the Kiwi dream, I've been busy.

Which has been eroded further by the allergy/cold/allergy/cold vicious circle.  It's been three weeks, and I'm getting to the tail end of Snottember.  I had the snot filling every pore in my sinus part.  I had the fever roller coaster for days part.  I had the drowning in mucus hacking up a lung part.  And I finally dropped the meds today to change conditions after a week of midnight dry cough-till-you-puke days.  And I'm downing some medicinal tea (and running out of medicinal whiskey) in the hopes the leftovers I chucked down after bedding the younglings don't get chucked back up tonight.  After all, it's not as though my stomach is upset, and I'm not having daily dealings with the Succubus.

Oh, and about the Succubus:  At least she's back doing visitation (just not the child support).  Which means I have some weekends free.

Yeah, I'm getting to know myself better and getting my geek on with some vintage RPG (the ancient book kind).  I might get around to cleaning, eventually.

*pause for raucous laughter*

But, as you can see from the hardware on the right, I finally have the last piece I needed to get started recording.  Which means, barring catastrophe, the Illustrious Patrick M and Lars the Pseudo-Kiwi will be rockin' the mic old school. Ish.  Our pre-good equipment run was successful.  Now, with the new usb mixer, a mic older than me, MY ORIGINAL microphone (from whence came my first flop), and the very computer on which I have been blogging for the last year, we're ready to record.

Now we just need to name the 'cast....