...tapes blastin' Iron Maiden Live!!!

Granted, it may seem that I've been something of a forgotten prisoner... but sometimes even rhythm takes a reprieve. Meanwhile, I must trust in nature and let the tumblers find the grooves. Words elude me of late but I haven't looked deeply into the twilight to see if anything was staring back. One final test to pass, it appears, and the last of the black plague will be expelled into the spring air where it cannot survive. Only I will remain. Hyuk. The doctors orders keep me in check, limiting my activity so I sit and plot and fester and heal and diversify and coagulate and give generously and narrow my views and drink socially and exceed the limits.

My portrait of Coach Petrino rode the console the last two days and there are nine new Falcons to welcome to Atlanta. In this time of growth, hope overflows and my optimism cuts new canyons. The Braves show signs of something special and I become a powerful scanner during gametimes. And since I feel so positive and magnanimous I'm not going to mention the ongoing cancer of Chip Caray and my bleeding ears.

Taking one more spin

The numbers dance in the cave

Feel them in the dark