Feeling cranky. I need a sandwich and a nap.

It's Electric Guitar on the Porch Day.

There is only one being who can get Bluesky working again.

As usual, everything negative the far right says about DEI hiring doesn't apply when /they/ do it.

A vintage guitar, possibly a Martin 0-45JB.

I want a short scale bass #guitar, and I was about ready to order a Squier Sonic Bronco Bass when I discovered the existence of the Kala solidbody U-Bass. Anybody got any thoughts? I'm a casual open mic musician.

I do so love this hour before anyone else gets up.

In my defense, I also practiced scales and exercises on the acoustic like a responsible adult (well, or as close as I was gonna get, anyway).

I completed an electric guitar rite of passage today: I learned to play the Stairway to Heaven intro.

Japchae (stir-fried noodles) with sirloin. I don't think I've had sweet potato glass noodles before, and I quite liked them.

I was watching from my high school library when the Challenger exploded. I could not watch the Artemis II livestreams before today because I did not want to get attached to those people. I am so relieved they are back on Earth safely.

Found my missing Apple Pencil: it was under the bathroom vanity, with teeth marks in it.

So far today I have been fucked over by capitalism, done my household chores with an extra helping, and made two annoying phone calls. I’m still a bit sick, but Retired Man™️ is worse. I’m going to go sit on the screened porch and practice scales against a metronome.

I dunno, I've spilled some beans at the little table off in the corner at a bar (don't they all have one?)

Oh holy hell. My health insurance is getting switched to reference-based pricing, which leaves the patient exposed to balance billing.

Today's stringed instrument lust: a concert ukulele. Preferably with electronics, although I regretfully must pass on the lavender Telecaster-styled OOAK electric.

Dissociating, free associating, tomato, potato

Apparently when the apocalypse comes I will be playing 80s hits on the baritone ukulele. Shout it all out.

Every time I put in my eyedrops I think of the dart throwing minigame in Stardew Valley

At this point I'm about ready to volunteer to lie in the pond with a sword

My husband produced a pack of sour watermelon Peeps he had secretly stashed for me, so I'm gonna have to give him a pass on trash talking darth

One for the dark humor lovers.

It’s really kind of annoying that almost any time I’m having trouble getting a note/string to ring clearly, putting my thumb back in the center of the neck where it belongs fixes the problem.

I’m going to try to distract myself from existential despair with pentatonic scales.

Geez, and I woke up early with a sense of dread BEFORE opening social media...

You know the nasal spray that you can only use every 12 hours, but it only works for 8 or so? I'm using it in alternating nostrils every 6 hours. I am a genius.

"Yes, I know. I know you're starving. I got your email. You didn't have to text and stop by too." --me, to the cat

Retired Man™️ has to ask "is there food associated with this holiday?" every time a Jewish holiday rolls around, but his matzoh ball soup is magnificent.

My husband says that darth is not a real red panda, he's just a black and white panda posting as a red panda, and now I need recommendations for a good lawyer

I knew that increasing the time I spend out in the world among people would mean getting sick more often, but this soon? Ugh. Sore throat, snot, and fatigue.

Well apparently singing in public is a thing I do now. Huh. I had crippling stage fright for decades and then two things happened: 1) I ran out of fucks; 2) a half hour of master class with Kathy Mattea took a bunch of tension out of my voice.

I need to accomplish a Task, but my brain is all full of other stuff and refuses to pay attention to the task. It's like trying to get a cat into a carrier.

Why yes, I am the one responsible for a hearty chorus of Jason Isbell's "Super 8" coming from my basement

Answers to "how do I get the guitar sound from SongName" always read like "well your stock wankiometers are crap, you're gonna have to upgrade those and then overdrive both bugmuckers with a lot of neodymium fuzz and the tone cranked. Or you can buy a $700 pedal called the Roadkill VX"

Can't sleep, rhymes will eat me...

2016 Fender MIM Duo Sonic HS in Surf Green with rosewood fingerboard. We are getting to know each other.

Gus and Ollie think Pan smells absolutely fascinating after his woodland escapade.

Mr. Thinks He's King of the Woods showed up at the back door in the middle of the night, wet and yelling to be let inside.

Dinnertime came and went and Pan is still missing. We have tromped our seven acre woods, spoken with neighbors, made calls, and posted to social media. Will do more of that tomorrow.

Oh hell, Pan escaped out the front door last night into the rain. He didn't turn up at breakfast time this morning like he did in the past. I've walked around calling him, and Retired Man™️ is tromping the woods looking for him.

I do not need any effects pedals I do not need any effects pedals I do not need any effects pedals I do not need any effects pedals I do not need any effects pedals I do not need any effects pedals I do not need any effects pedals I do not need any effects pedals I do not need any effects pedals I

Drove three hours to buy an electric guitar from a very friendly fellow who was quite surprised that I actually showed up. He even volunteered to drop the price a bit on account of the cost of my gas.

You know what, fuck it, the world is ending, I'm gonna buy an electric guitar

So if anyone would like to talk me out of buying a Fender Duo-Sonic HS, now's your chance.

Feeling precocious for having declared I'm done with air travel several years ago

May all the gods smile upon you, my Five People

I an going to share with you an important Indiana survival tip: Remove the top bun from your sandwich. Fold your Hoosier tenderloin in half and re-center it on the lower bun. Replace top bun.

It's 70 degrees here, the sun doesn't set until 8, and we had a cheery bottle of Frappato with dinner. And that is how it came to pass that I am sitting on my patio in the twilight with my guitar, playing a vague semblance of a tango and singing the children's song "Don Gato" with much feeling.

I’d tell my Terpsichore joke, but it’s the same old song and dance

A little morning code switching: Me: ...To be clear, I'm not one to damn with faint praise. Him: No, I know, if you intend to damn someone, you just damn them. Me: That's right, we don't believe in damning half-assed around here.