Ramblin' through...: Have I resorted to the yearly update?

It sure seems that I've failed to keep up my end of the bargain with posting here. It's a sad day in the joeosphere with this yearly posting thing. I am vast. I am composed of deceased stars. Or some shit like that.

Anyway. Some things you should know about me before you decide to rededicate yourself to this enterprise of keeping up with my universe of barely blogging.

One: I now like whiskey. Scotch. Bourbon. Rye. The diehards already know about my fondness for white lightning. As long as it ain't Seagrams.. I also don't like my whiskey distilled in old radiators. One day I will distill my own. And maybe I will sell it. And maybe I will get arrested--for that and for selling the hemp I will grow. One has to make a living--since I certainly am not quite doing it now.

Two: I live in freaking Indiana. You can shoot me now if you like. But I'm just barely over the border. The farmland I'm renting with my dedicated and morally upright partners in crime is pretty awesome and is near two declared nature preserves (one in Illinois and one in Indiana). But there are a lot of deer. And I'm afraid that I might have to declare Jihad on all the hoofed beasts in this area. Wish me luck in my battle.

Three: I like farming a lot. And I hate having jobs off my farm. I am going to solve this disconnect really soon, just you wait.

Four: I need a new vehicle. Soon. I will make a potion. And with said potion (which will undoubtedly contain some sort of animal horn) I will acquire a magic vehicle. Preferably with four wheel drive and lots of space.

Five: I enjoy watching basketball. Sometimes it's the best thing to do with two hours, because, really, it doesn't matter. Go Bulls.

Six: I've spent the winter working with all kinds of animals on a well-known Chicago-area farm, and I've learned a ton about animal husbandry. I've also relearned a bunch of stuff about heavy farm machinery, which is always handy. Plus, I've come to find out that many of the youths in America--even those that work for barely any pay on farms in Nowhereville, IL just to learn--are doomed.

Seven: I don't get to travel enough anymore.

Eight: I miss mountains and rivers.

Nine: I really would like not to switch abodes anymore.

Ten: Life be crazy, yo.

Eleven: See ya round. Drop a line if you are out there, friend or stranger. Visit the farm if you are near. Links for the farm will be posted in the sidebar.