Even I know...

...when to shut the hell up.

The endless stream of bad stuff here probably bums some of you out in a major way, and it clearly affects me negatively.

If I was ever to write about the between-the-lines happenings, the sordid little scenes I keep mostly to myself, it would be even more of a downer. What you can't imagine happening is what I've experienced; the more absurd the scenario, the better the chance it's part of my days. And weeks, months and years.

Not to mention the usual hassles, which have attained the power to stop me dead in my tracks. So many things I should have done yesterday have been put off until tomorrow, simply because various things happen that sap my energy.

It's a damn mess, I tell you.

My life would make a wonderful cheap novel, except it wouldn't be believable. Or it might make a good comic book.

What it does not make is a very satisfying life to live.

And I am slowly coming to the conclusion I cannot fix it on my own.

Oh, well.

You might get a chuckle or two out of the details, but I'm too shy to expose the extent of my dimwittedness.

I'm telling you, it's not much fun to be me, Jim.

So I will simply sign off for now....