political ire and chickens

Yesterday I had the day off.  It was very relaxing.  I started the day off right by not shaving.  Man, I’ve been shaving everyday since July fourth and my face was worn out.  Only by not shaving can we get a close shave.  This morning my face is really smooth, even after using a disposable Gillete.
I read the Atlantic Monthly during the morning.  The article that stands out was about why we feel perpetual stress and a lack of closure with our jobs.  Unlike building  a wall or cutting timber, most of us who work in an office environment can’t see what we’ve done at the end of the day.  It all runs together in a molasses mess of perpetual minutia.  I approve work requests for a paycheck.  They never end and the when needed the guidance I’m given is often vague and just a suggestion.  I need absolutes to really know how to push this paper.
Later I walked to the Haji mart for some cigars then back to the hooch and watched Farenheit 9/11.  I won’t say much about it because I get ill whenever I think about George Bush as our president and this war he waged on the people of Iraq to line his own pockets and those of his cohorts and fellow Texans.  His administration are liars and cowards.  If there is any such thing as eternal justice after we die Bush and Cheney are going to have a few long days ahead of them.  I think we need the draft so most sons and daughters of America have to do time in the military.  Maybe then all the old white men in Congress won’t be so quick to make war and rally round the flag in patriotic zeal (before they realize its all to support a corporate geography that doesn’t give a damn about most Americans like me and you).  Like John Fogerty said, I ain’t no Fortunate One.
Then I walked back to the pool and read a Rolling Stone article about the death of Jim Morrison.  That girl Pamela kept his body on dry ice in her bedroom for two days.  The funniest part of the article is the two hippies wandering Paris singing bad covers of Crosby, Still, Nash and Young.  Jim, drunk asks them to come record with him.  Apparently it was a pretty bad half hour session but its survived so I’ll look for a CD to see just how bad it was.
Last night S., Jo. And I went to the Chinese restaurant.  It was a good way to end the day.  Four chickens strutted around the yard in and out from under the tables.
The food was very fresh.