Wednesday the fuel poisoning, chemical lethargy and respiration distress are usually cleared up. So I probably have a wicked head cold that is making this week extraordinarily tough.
I have many close friends, and many more that will someday be closer. I can change diapers. I have planned and executed an invasion. I can butcher an animal. I have smacked a bear in the ass with a 2"x4". I have jumped out of several airplanes. I have snorkeled in the Yucatan. I smoke, I eat fire, I blow fire, and I juggle. I do rope magic. I have trained for decades in martial arts. I have sailed a boat, built a dock, climbed a mountain on two continents, designed a building, wrote sonnets and built walls. I can pleat a kilt. I can identify trees, I have set a bone, I have comforted the dying. I can take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze new problems, program a computer, build a Web Site, read a map, read an audience, locate the north star, cook a tasty meal, make a child laugh, make an old man snicker, make a woman blush, dance like a fool, tie efficient knots, weave, knit, paint, draw, improvise, speak more than one foriegn language, and I can and fight with brutality. But I can't sing worth a damn.
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