Creepin' Way Too Early Wi' The Bullfrogs

I woke up at 4:27AM.
Had a deeeeeeeeeeep sleep.
Channeled some weird Nibiruesque dreams.
The kind of dreams that make your teeth bleed.
(You gotta go check out http://badlipreading.tumblr.com/ to get that)

Asked a sailing friend on FB why there was a picture of him (well a pic of his 'spiked' coffee, to be precise) on a train.
He replied that he was on his way to his '222' but would rather be '111' ing by teaching sailing.
Made me laugh, that did.

Creepin' between the hulls

He's also one of the few friends on FB who understand where I'm coming from in my view of the world and of politics and of my deep distrust of Obama and his cronies and of my continuous raised eyebrow state regarding the US defence budget and how it just doesn't need to be done that way.

We use different kinds of sex toys on boats

There's only one explanation for my friend understanding where I'm coming from.
He's in Water World, and like I mentioned yesterday, WW attracts a different kind of drinker, I mean thinker, on the whole, not always, but mostly.

Today Magus aka Bernard Sycamore (I gave all my friends in Mexico nicknames using their middle name and the name of the first street they lived on; there's Kingly Rich, Lynne Deli, Patrick Cornwallis, Robert Sunset, Allan Sterling, Nesbit River and me, the most boring one, Louisa Mayfield.)

I tigressed, but today Comrade Sycamore is going to check on my batteries.
There are two scenarios.
One is that I left them 'off' so they won't be as fcked as if I'd left them 'on'.
Those are the two scenarios in one line.
Regardless, it's pointless to worry about this so I'll just move on to the next topic.

I can't wait to have a bit of vitamin D action going again. Modeling my Fidelity Boots, bought from the lady on Fidelity for $20 from a boat swap-meet. They belonged to her ex-husband's ex-wife. Love the story behind these boots. I guess you could say 'these boots were made for divorcing.'

Winches.
I'd like to stress to the 100 plus new readers who got tangled in my boat's propeller via clicking on me over at http://alwaysleavingthingsunfinishe.blogspot.com/
that I am the world's thriftiest kant, even before the recession hit, and so I wait around for bargains, as opposed to going all out and buying things fo' new.

and these winches you see pictured are an example of such thrifty luck, and I have my friend on the 1924 wooden schooner Ann, to thank for these, as he put me in touch with a guy who was trying to get rid of a few winches, as folks are want to do in WW.

$100

Long story short, I got the bargain of a lifeline - each winch wound up costing me a mere 100 bucks.

New, these winches go for nearly 1800 bucks!

Taking the winch apart, cleaning it with gasoline and then greasing it.

I did the same with my tender or dinghy for those not familiar with boatspeak, picking it up for $200 from some folks who sailed into the bay and dropped anchor next door to me.

I still don't know my stars. Only Orion's Belt. I'm probably the first 'sailor' to say, 'Hmm. I think the north star has moved. It must be a seasonal thing.'

New it would go for nearly 2k. The dinghy, not the north star.
Then there was the 80lb anchor I procured for a mere $200, also from a neighbor in the bay.
And so on. You get my gist.
I just need to remind myself what I want to write about later on today.
Saying sorry.
Right. I think I'll watch a movie as I creep into the day.
And have a beer to truly celebrate not having to go somewhere where beer breath of a morning is a big no-no, or 'nao nao' in Aussie. ;) Corrine.
Later camper.