Everybody love them dead presidents

Spent a good chunk of last night listening to mp3s of Little Walter, Sonny Boy Williamson, and Junior Wells while practicing unicycling on my balcony as the stars gyred and gimboled above me, and the earth strode through the Perseids like an ifrit through a river of popcorn.

OK. Yeah. That was decidedly weird imagery. I wonder if that’s from re-watching “The Thief of Bagdad” last month?

Anyway, I think that when I get better at it, I shall start playing harmonica while unicycling. My hands want something to do. And juggling, while fun, would be a bit distracting since objects get dropped continually. Go a few meters. Stop to pick up the stuff you dropped. Repeat ad infinitum.

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