It's been a little bit since my last post. I've tinkered with code and haven't liked what I ended up with. So I'll start anew tomorrow.

I'm currently listening to Bruce Dickinson's "Born in '58." 1958 was a good year. My mother was born that year. '58 Plymoth Fury. I am so in an '80's metal mood. Normaly, I'm listening to Beth Orton or Nick Cave.

My friend Jon just got his first Strat, a Jimmie Vaughan Strat. Stratocaster by Fender Guitars incase you didn't know. Overnight, he's become a Strat person, a Fender person. I've been one for long time though I may not have known that. My current guitar is a Fat Strat, Agave Blue (Agave is the plant from which you get Tequila from). My current amp is a Fender Cyber-Twin (an amp with so much contraversy surrounding it). I'll write more later.

Tonight, I had a conversation with Jon about my first Strat, a plain ole' mexican black Strat. I've had it since '91. In the beginning, I wasn't kind to it. No, I didn't beat on it. I just didn't take care of it. I was like a child with it. And children, even though they mean well, don't take care for their things. They, like I did, assumed things will take care of themselves on their own. 12 years later, my first Strat is sick. And the debate at hand is whether it is worth it to get it fixed. More likely than not, it'll cost about the same as a used Strat to get it fixed. Is it worth it? I think it is... maybe. The other option is to put the ole' Strat in a case and lable it "My First Strat," leave it unplayed and protected.

There was one point in my life when the only friends I had was my dog Max and my first Strat, the black one. I think I'm going to spend the money to fix it. Do I have the money? Nope. I don't even have the money for last night's emergency. Aren't I the lucky one.

I'm going to go watch the Blair Witch on DVD.  ¶ 3:41 AM