Floundering

There has been a lapse in time, a gaping tear in the space-time continuum that has prevented Butch Cassidy or I from scratching the lens upon your monitor. I could be po-cu and make some sweet pop-culture reference (such as: “We come back to you now, at the turn of the tide.”), but I abstain, realizing that maybe now isn’t the most fitting of times to make LOTR references.

So I’ll take the honest path, and hopefully, that will make all the difference.

Butch and I have been entangled in trifles of love, war and villainy (ßmost lesbian sentence ever). We’ve traveled far and wide, attempting to acculturate ourselves for you, the reader. I’m not insinuating that we were acultural badasses, operating outside of the norm and donning burlap sacks with copies of coprophiliac Dadaist manifestos inscribed on our skin in ash. Quite the opposite really, we’re immersed in culture, steeped in unisex vests and proliferating pseudo-Asian haircuts. We’ve been cloaked in Forks, Washington and wore Uggs on Venice Beach. New York? Well, I loved it, but it was bringing me down. Our travels now endured and hazards overcame, our woman wooed and our beer guzzled, it’s time to return, aged and cultured to perfection.

Heaven and Earth prepare themselves.

-Mozart