wag wag wag

He gave me pets on the head and rubs on my belly and that kind of attention just makes me wag wag wag wag wag wag wag wag wag wag wag wag

I think I hacked reality somehow since it just doesn't seem plausible otherwise to have met someone who shares so many tastes in music and has been bringing my attention to good acts I wasn't aware of. I'm beginning to suspect he has some implant that goes off if there's a rockin' woman with a guitar within a 1,000 mile radius and want to know where he got it so I can get one too.

Somebody broke in but all that was missing were the polaroids.
The scene of the crime could be anywhere at anytime.
But I'm always salivating about the maniac responsible.
I know that to attack is merely the desire to free one's self from infatuation.
That there's a thin line between a love tap and murder with a blunt instument.
That a sharp stick in the eye kills the devil in the soul everytime.
And night after night those hollow screams echo out through deserted parking lots. That paper oasis littered with lottery dreams.

And I'm always lacerating myself with memories and demented visions of some woe-begotten Messenger of the Lord who's now livin' down at the Hangover Hotel where everybody's livin' hand-to-mouth trying to get ahead.
But, shit, a quick jaunt down to the corner store to pick up a forty of Colt 45, a fifth of Jack, a bottle of aspirins, half a dozen condoms and a carton of cigarettes will bring ya down real hard by about fifty bucks and then all you're left with is your dreams.
And you'll be dreamin' amongst drunks.
Yeah, dreamin'....

~L.L.
"Hangover Hotel"

Patrick is one of the most original people I've ever met. He's got convictions (god help us) and the power to carry them through.
If you happen to cross his path, you'll be a changed man (or woman, or trans) in a very good way. I aspire to be like him when I grow up.

Of all the people I've known, I think Patrick is going to be the best at not letting his babies grow up to be cowboys.