variations on a theme

middle-aged daydream of the last great adventure

Instead of fantasizing about supermodels frolicking on the hoods of sports cars or winning the Super Bowl, I often daydream about walking out the door one day without saying a word to anyone and just continuing walking with no set destination in mind. Pick a random direction and commence the journey with no possessions except a carbonated beverage, maybe two. Keep walking into the great unknown until I settle down to die in some drainage ditch or overgrown wooded area in some undisclosed location.

In the meantime, I have got to find some decent walking shoes and some fluffy socks.

an epic poem about winter...

you suck.