I don't have a whole heckuva lot to say here this morning.

I walked/limped this morning, trying to think of anything that desperately needed to be mentioned here and came up with nothing.

I can now add a bone spur in my right heel to my list of injuries and ailments. I've had these before...basically a bone in my foot is cutting into a nerve when I walk, making walking pretty excrutiating. It feels like I have a shoe make of broken glass. Luckily, I still have the inserts that were made specifically for my feet that I can put into my shoes and after about a month or so of wearing them, the pain and bone spur will go away.

And there will be much rejoicing in the streets.

And dogs will dance with cats.

And Democrats and Republicans will gather together as one and sing "God Bless America" and shock the world because nobody thought that all these people really wanted America blessed.

There will be much gasping in the streets over this.

And fat, middle-aged guys with online diaries will transgress into unwarranted tangents that will benefit nobody.

Ahhhhh...Baby Andrew decided at 4 a.m. that it was time we all got up and kept him company.

Wrong, kiddo. It's time MAMA got up to keep you company.

I laid in bed another 30 minutes before getting up to go hit the streets. Once I got out there, it was 43 degrees.

So it was pretty cold.

And my heel was on fire.

My dog was running to and fro, sniffing the errant patches of piss everywhere.

I wanted to just lay down on the sidewalk and sleep for another hour.

But I trudged forward. I worked through the pain and the cold.

And I deserve some kinda medal.

Make it something purple, please.

I watched bits and pieces of the Barenaked Ladies' documentary "Barenaked in America" last night on Starz.

I like the Ladies. I was introduced to them via "Rock Spectacle" ... the live album. I had heard of them before then, but never bothered to buy any of their discs. "Rock Spectacle" was given to me by a buddy at the local rock radio station.

I fell in love with the album. I still say it's one of the best live albums of all time. The song "Break Your Heart" reduces me to heaving sobs every time I hear it.

Well...not every time. It used to reduce me to heaving sobs on a regular basis...these days if I haven't heard it in a while and am feeling melancholy, it'll make me cry like a wounded wolverine.

But you know...I'm kinda getting more macho in my old age. I'm not really bawling at music like a little girl dreaming of losing her virginity at an orgy featuring her and the combined members of the Backstreet Boys and 'N Sync anymore.

But...I am bawling at music like an elderly woman dreaming of receiving oral sex from Wayne Newton and Tony Orlando at the same time.

At least I've made progress.

I'm buying my second CD of the year today.

Pre-Napster...I spent damned near every spare penny I had on CDs.

Now?

Two a year, baby.

And sadly...they were both by Pink Floyd or members of Pink Floyd.

Today I'm buying "Echoes"...the Floyd's greatest hits. Since the band's been broken up for almost 20 years, every new release is either a greatest hits or a live album.

Earlier this year I bought Floyd's lyricist/bassist Roger Waters double live disc. Last year I bought the Pink Floyd double live disc. It's almost like I can't get enough copies of "Wish You Were Here" or something.

I really loved the Floyd when I was a stoner. I totally got the message that the band was trying to convey. That message was ... "Get stoned".

These days, I listen to the band and go "...What?"

Not that I'd KILL for a joint to smoke while I listened to the discs.

...I'd probably maim though.

I'm sure that I'd definitely injure.

Perhaps a little light torture.

I'd poke somebody in the eye and run away for a joint.

Anyway...

Grasping for straws, am I?

Gotta go take care of Baby Buttmunch. Talk to ya later.