So out on the street, where the wire that stretches from my roof meets the telephone pole, which are connected to someplace that allows me a connection to the world wide web. Well, that little conduit has been giving me some big-ass trouble. My connection has been down for one week; crippling me in the process. It’s just plain fucked how reliant I am on it. I pay my bills this way. I talk to mom this way. I send files I build, and receive new files to build with. Etc.

Things around the house—on top of being sad—have been so frustrating.

And then there is Gary. The heat has brought out a real feisty side of him. The little sonofabitch has been barking incessantly. And man, that little bark just completely fills up the whole place, bouncing off every flat surface in the joint. He’ll bark at anything. Be it a knock at the door or a floor creak or the pigeons who’ve taken up residence on the roof’s back gutter. With all this drama surrounding Comcast’s complete fucking inability to figure out the connection troubles, the little man has really been getting under our skin with barking.

I’m looking into specialists who offer up “face removal” to remedy his vocal shortcomings. I think the little feller would still be cute, sans the bark apparatus that just rattles the whole goddamned place.

We’re coming up on that much-anticipated “halfway point” of the June/July/August summertime heat zone. Get me through the rest, with some sort of finesse, as, the next 50 days are gonna be a test to my constitution. Today when I jumped into Big S, his thermometer read, “87 degrees,” and of course, his cockpit was a good 100 degrees, easy. Not down with this shit.

The DDC Factory Floor “central air” is set to be installed on the 11th. Looking forward to it. A treat. No more sweaty afternoons working on the projects. No more pissed off weiner dogs pacing, looking for a cool breeze. No more sticky boxer shorts. (Yum.) Meat Locker-esque temps. One big walk-in cooler. Sorta. Ant-fuckin’-arctica.