Live cheap or die

Practice patience, you will be amazed at the results of waiting instead of making irrational haste eating paste. That's besides the point.

An elderly negro gentleman stopped me outside the bank and said, "Do you know how good you look today?" And I said without missing a cool stride, "You know, I actually do. I was thinking I do look pretty damn good today." There was a bit of bounce in my step because it was one of those days where I just knew everything would always be alright and cruisy. I was freshly showered and shaved and was wearing my red Bad Religion t-shirt that has two sexy nuns in a quite sensual embrace, my twelve dollar pine green shorts that I have been wearing for the last eight days straight but nobody can tell or cares, black socks pulled up cholo style, brown tattered skate shoes still holding true to style and function, my new favorite flatbrim Volcom custom safety-pin patched hat that I have received two complements for in two days, and my ten dollar polarized bugeyed Queen Victoria market sunglasses for increased invisibility. A damn good outfit to roam the city for suuuuure. I shared smiles and some small talk with Bill, his being a bit toothless, but all genuine and real human heart to heart. Made me realize I am doing exactly what I should be.

I just remembered now about an old negro woman in a wheelchair saying, "Money can't buy you happiness, that's for sure," as she was being pushed out the door of the bank by her friend. Her words and the sure-of-herself wise old woman way she said them put a smile onto my face. I knew she was telling the truth. She had lived her whole life trial-ing and error-ing and refining the answers to life's questions. She knew and I silently thanked her for knowing as I filled out my thirteen hundred dollar bank deposit slip. I worked for thirteen days straight to earn the loot by way of a cosmic blessing that I am so grateful for. Call me crazy (I do) but I consider myself rich having $1,307 and see a whole new world of possibilities. Thank the golden heavens for so much free happiness everywhere! It makes the rest of life fairly inexpensive.

On the prowl

Proof that I was a cat in some previous life:

I love laying in sunny spots on the carpet

I smile like the Cheshire Cat

I always tiptoe around and move quite stealthily

I always find myself laying in catlike positions with feet and hands crossed

If you scratch my tailbone my nervous system reacts in a very catlike way and I get all warm and purrrry

My reflexes are lightning quick and I usually land on my feet after hurling myself through the air.

I am a quiet cuddly cuddler and enjoy silence and bliss and affection and long stretched out yawns.

I enjoy human catnip

Most of the time I just cannot be bothered

I have excellent eyesight

You can’t hold me down

I do what I want

I am drawn to cats and feel very connected to them.

I have nine lives for sure, or maybe I feel like I am nine different people sometimes: the intrepid traveler, the bhikku mystic, the surfer dude, the snow bro, the bookworm, the artsy creator, the reliable friend, the passionate lover, and the insane psychadelic four dimensionial all-seeing being.

$63 in my pocket

So I fully buddhafied the van got rid of even more stuff, made the floor space bigger so I can relax on the floor more by the seashore, lit some incense and now enjoying a whole new spacious perspective up here on my hobbit hill spot…lazy day Chad hopped a flight to Denver on a crazy zen whirlwind mission so Im here with chores to do, tea to drink, and thoughts to think. I ate some mid quality cheese for breakfast, weird looking and feeling American kind but I was craving it for some strange reason. Cheese is mellow and I am an opiate, er, uh, or something like that. The receptors in my brain that dig processed food taste are still alive, unfortunately, although a battle against them is currently being waged – you cannot choose the life you were born into but you can as damn sure choose everything once you know what choosing is and how to do it properly hopefully.

I figure if the van ever breaks down completely I can move all of my stuff (although the word here should be “fit” instead of “stuff” because I fit everything I have, I do not stuff it) with stressless ease as it all packs down to about a bathtub sized unit with surfboards on top and a bicycle at the side. It sure is fun getting rid of silly things; like my elbow pad that I never wore but toted around for years to protect my once-hurt-now-healed elbow; or my futon pad that I acquired from a friend three years ago in Colorado and now I am re-gifting it to his new unfurnished house in San Francisco, a pretty cool round trip if you ask me; my mask and snorkel I want to hold onto still because I have someone in mind to gift them to but no funds right now for postage. That’s right, n o f u n d s, fun, fun, fun, but no funds, unless love was currency, then I’d be a rapper in my own music video with bling cheese shizzle on the grizzle! Whatkinda silly word is “fund” anyway? Sounds like a really boring noise that some extremely lethargic animal would make. Or maybe it is the sound made by a magic wund. Anywheeez, find a penny pick it up all day have good luck!