Perfumed by Farts

I’m writing this not from some green room festooned with phallic art (thank god), but from an undisclosed location I’ve absentmindedly geotagged on Instagram. So much for that much needed social media unplug. At any rate, I’m on uncle duty as I’m writing this, watching my nephew chase geckos around the lanai in full waddle-tastic toddlerdom, and I couldn’t be more content with my place in the world. Total decompression level achieved. 

My first under a palm tree book’s The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin, highly recommended for fellow sci-fi nerds, and as said palm tree’s within line of sight and calling my name, best to wrap this up and celebrate not being in a submarine sized space perfumed by farts.

I hope you all are enjoying time with family and friends, I’m sure it’s much needed and well earned.