Well Well Well, and then Well how do you do? That is the question du jour (which means 'of the day" like say a soup or an entree at a fine restaurant). How do you do? Meaning me. How do I - Taffy Sunburst McKittrick - find myself at this particular juncture wherein it is now September and the whole of the August teat dried up and shrunk into the rearview mirror. Where does the time go? (note: yes that is another question, but it is not the question. The question is "How do you do?"). You - a member of my storied and voluminous blog-reading audience have probably given up on ol' Taffy, right? You've thought that I just slunk off somewhere under a tree and maybe part of you even gave up on me. That is fine. Let me announce to you that I have been places in the past few weeks and I have grown in an accelerated manner, like an infant or a baby or - at my most extreme - like an infant baby.
Ah, I'm stalling. Let's get to it:
It goes without saying that Dr. Albert Tubman was a fraud and a much better swindler and bamboozler than life coach. Oh, he indeed taught me some life lessons: don't trust people, don't let people into your heart, and - above all - don't take out a line of credit in your name and sign over the control of said line of credit to a bald, seemingly well-intentioned aspirant orthodontist who promised to help you become a better artist. I won't get into all the sticky details but lets just pretend that I'm saying that I spent several days in the county lockup and upon my release came home to find all my furniture had been sold on craigslist. Even my crockpot.
In short, these are dark and furious times. And I am, by extension, a dark and furious man-beast, howling in the blackness, my gnarled claws to my scarred visage, wailing up at the sky in a guttural and booming roar: why? Why? why?! Mothereffer Why why Why!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?
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