Well done, we made it to 2024, no small feat, and local friendlies celebrated the fact with whoops and fireworks which bombed across the firmament like the guns of Kursk. There was traditional gunfire too, off on the edge of town by the sound of it, maybe a pistol or two. All very exciting, and I joined in the fun by setting off a few strips of firecrackers, drawing a big round of Mexican applause.
Fun. Then it was time to head to bed and another installment of Iain Pears' excellent Arcadia, check it out. Today? A brisk walk with an excited dog to the Pick 'n Steal via the Olde Meth Shacke, which is being refurbed by Pedro and his crew.
Gone are the days of ne'er do wells lolling shirtless and witless in their ragged pajama bottoms, behold instead the new advent of hard at work artisans from south of the border doing their thing. Good for them, though I miss the spectacle of meth shackery, being a creature of tradition.
Now, safely back at the Compound, we reflect on the coming year, what will it bring? Good question, and I'm not a betting man but I'll wager my fighting monkey against any ten of your wymmxn priestesses, yes, ten, that 2024 will be even crazier than bad old '23.
Cheers,
LSP
