I’m snow blind. I can’t see a thing. I’m snow blind. I don’t wanna sing. I’m snow blind. Need a familiar face. I’m snow blind. Think I’m lost in space

Qideas on Argyle. Plan to bring one home Saturday the 2nd after lunch with Xtina and before making hot sauce that afternoon. 

Shooter Jennings was in the first scene of The Punisher Season 2

We got 8 inches of snow overnight Friday into Saturday.

I made myself go out and regretted every minute of it. The Red Line had mechanical issues and I had to take the Clark Street bus and walk all the way down Irving Park home. I figured stores wouldn’t be busy and I was very wrong.

Red Line trains were operating only between Belmont and 95th, and Yellow Line service was temporarily suspended. Delays were also expected on the Purple Line, with limited service between South Boulevard and Linden.


It’s nearly without fail that whenever I read Bukowski on the CTA that a woman sits right up next to me and I’m on a page where the author writes about sex in the most vulgar manner. I attempt to turn the page and there’s more.
 
“The ass is the face of the soul of sex.” ― Charles Bukowski
Alternating between tough and gentle, sensitive and gritty, Bukowski lays bare the myriad facets of love—its selfishness and its narcissism, its randomness, its mystery and its misery, and, ultimately, its true joyfulness, endurance, and redemptive power.
 

“For those who believe in God, most of the big questions are answered. But for those of us who can’t readily accept the God formula, the big answers don’t remain stone-written. We adjust to new conditions and discoveries. We are pliable. Love need not be a command nor faith a dictum. I am my own god. We are here to unlearn the teachings of the church, state, and our educational system. We are here to drink beer. We are here to kill war. We are here to laugh at the odds and live our lives so well that Death will tremble to take us.” ― Charles Bukowski

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