Contagious

Not the Y&T album.

We've lost a brave blog gaurd to whatever it is that's going around these days. Here we call it "The Plague". The season for viral frenzy is upon us. An orgy of microsexual filth clouds the air we breath and we pass it back and forth like we're playing breath hockey. Intimate spit fights claim and lose territory with completely innocent abandon inside the front ends of our digestive system. The same track of flesh that nourishes our entire system and cleans, filters, stores and deposits cargo from the Outside. A dirty doorknob says a lot about a home.

Back in the day, even the poorest of families would sweep the porch and polish the doorknob as a sign of civility. Ants must think we're insane. Our shining knobs hardly disquising the fact that we shit in our homes and store trash next to the toolbox.

Here I'll allude to the every-end-has-a-new-beginning thing and wish our brave guardian a happy journey inside the great mystery.