Patches says, “make the bed, fatty!”
She’s so mean to me.

Patches says, “make the bed, fatty!”
She’s so mean to me.

Patches is pissed. She wants me to punch out of work and go watch the new episode of Hawkeye.

Damn, calm down cat. I need to make dinner first.
Patches sat on me because she heard me say I wanted to work on some music tonight.
No, don’t do it, she said. We can’t handle such torture.
She’s probably my biggest fan.



Wanna make somethin’ of it? Do ya, punk?
Assuming I don’t need to add an additional song, I think I finished all of the guitars and all of the vocals for November today. Oh my goodness, my finger tips are on fire. Burning hell fire finger tips. Good heavens.
I think I can stop using the Vox MV50 amp now. I should be able to put it back into the living room with the electric piano. It’s going to be there all setup when the kids come home for Christmas break.
They came over today and decorated the tree and packed up their stuff for school and left. I’m sad for me and excited for them. As usual, right? I just love them. You know how it is.
The stockings were hung on the wall opposite the chimney with care.

The annual Owl post.
The Owl needs to be the second highest ornament on the tree, after the star. I had to wrap it around a branch to get it as high up as possible. A few minutes ago it unwrapped itself and fell a little, which made the Jawa the second highest. I fixed it.






I pulled out of the driveway at 9:05, pulled back in at 10:20. In the intervening 1.25 hours I put vocals onto four songs.
We are gettin’ shit done, kids!
My studio:

My town:

When you have a real christmas tree, never forget to water it. Also, if you have a super groovy tree-watering-funnel thing, make sure you tilt it up at a high enough angle that you don’t just pour water onto the floor.

If you heed my warnings and make use of my vast wisdom, you can avoid my idiotic mistakes.
This message has been brought to you by the letter: splash.