Where's Waldo? Fuck if I know...

Ossining, NY--I've been visiting a dear friend for over a month now and have (don't laugh) contracted an unknown ailment that has been rending my body for two weeks running now. With principal work on the DC Madam account basically finished, it's time to find another direction. I'm not sure what's that going to be, so I'm still in the spirit of the times since no one in government does either. Welcome to America.

It's possible that I will never write a non-fiction work ever again unless there's a damned good reason, meaning taxable income.

On the ailment: we first thought this was the measles. It was not. First, it was a very sore throat and a fever, aches, pains, and not simply the kind my rapidly decaying body is used to. For all you armchair physicians out there, the spots spread first from around my throat (never reaching my face) and looked both like the spots from scarlet fever and measles. None of the doctors who saw me has any idea what it was except that it could have been "viral."

Like measles, it spread down my body until it reached my feet, yes my feet. Now, they're fading and I'm spent, no energy, zip, nada, zilcho. Who knows where I got this shit.

So, since I've been in NY State, I have endured:

--An unprecedented earthquake that originated in Virginia.

--A hurricane (Irene) and flooding (it missed us, but still...).

--An undisclosed medical diagnosis unrelated to the "spots" that I don't want to go into, but life-changing nonetheless.

--The spots, whatever the fuck it was.

--A slew of existential crises that, yes, have to do partly with the current economic crisis and getting older.

And so, there it is, more fodder for the writing mill. Yes, there will be short stories coming eventually. I'll be changing my name to "Job" for every reason you think.