stfu vol. LVII

Dear Pals,

Perhaps chastened by the guilt from my unedited, stream-of-consciousness asshologue the last time I went out drinking, I have successfully managed to bite my tongue at least twice in the last week when somebody said or did something that I knew in my heart needed to be addressed with sarcasm/spite/insults, etc.

Part of me is still itching to say something, but I think the restraint makes me a better man.

Oh, and this HIATUS has been incredible. Much better than last year. Obviously not having the constant anxiety about my father's health is part of it, but I am also just treasuring every second more than I did the first time. I keep reminding myself that this is why I worked so hard all year, so I can get my loaf on in the summertime. There has been bowling, daytime drinking, bike riding, basketball playing, NBA Finals watching, movie going, baby tickling, and we're just a week in. Still ahead: reading day in Central Park (maybe Monday) where I lay in sheep meadow with my new book ("Cruddy" by Lynda Barry) and slurp on a contraband Bud purchased from one of the hobo/entrepreneurs who stroll through the park with coolers full of refreshing beverages and still have the decency to refrain from overcharging too badly. Also: I am going to buy a DSLR soon. Suggestions welcome.

Yours in leisure,

Hans