Virgo 16° (September 7)


I think before it goes out of my mind I better write down some preliminary thoughts and feels. I had spent a few hours this morning sending out last minute pleas and trying to get some money in but it is what it is at this point and hopefully we shall get some groovy ticket sales going from the town folk and people visiting. I also had to make sure people knew about the party and I need to get an accurate headcount. I then moved around and had some ideas that I need to weave into the script.

The whole idea of the gods being alive. The fact that astrology finally put that all into context. That the gods were alive again. That it started up that I knew what my mother was talking about. There were some scary moments. My psychic ability would get stronger when I drank because my conscious mind would get out of the way. Talk about partying a bit. Take poetic license during that time in France as well. All the stuff about isolation puting the pot into that place and then the astral projecting shaky hands and eyeballs. I have no idea why just wrote that. I didn’t hang out with them 24/7 they legitimized me but I only saw them socially on occasion. There was no static cling the way I thought friends were supposed to be, my friendships were always very intense. I always had a best friend. I talk about how life became magic. Maybe word got out and they thought I was a bit psycho? A lot of psychosis also sort of come to light at puberty but that thing with Peter Reynolds got me the reputation that I was psycho. The dreams started. I have predictive powers I still get them. Some times I remember to tell Stella about them so that I have proof in case they come true. I’ll give you a for instance. Tell the dream about the man. We were in Boston in the dead of winter it was freezing outside.

These people didn’t want anything from me they weren’t codependent. Make a giant scroll out of the poem “As if I don’t have enough to do”Conceit that images pop out of my phone. Jewish eye candy and the Suzy Menkes story. I didn’t do anything of the sort but the ideas were at least flowing. I have to write a blurb on a new sponsor:

Geek Chic. Since scuttlebut of breweries opening in Provincetown began in 2018, the knee-jerk response was resistant; but with the reality of the PBC, newly opened in the former 141 Bradford Natural Market space, the townspeople couldn’t be more pleased. For starters, founder Chris Hartley and partner Erik Borg kept 141’s kitchen going—same cooks and menus —ramping it up all the more with beer-friendly pairings like soft pretzels and fried pickles and artichoke cakes, preserving this address’s destination status as the “omphalos” (world-navel) center of Ptown, where folks can gather for healthy fare and, now, beer. Breakfast, from 9AM-IPM, feature sa Brewski Breakfast Sandwich (eggs, cheese, pico de gallo, chipotle aioli) and  Avacado Toast, while the overlapping all-day-and-night menu, 10AM to 9PM, boasts a plethora of shared plates—Lamb Balls and Fried Snapper Escovich among them—and a range of sandwichs and salads. The PBC tap room offers three of their homemade brews—a Bearded Mistress IPA, a Golden Hook ale, and a Crandaddy Sour. They do (and will incresingly) brew other beers, but the larger quantities are processed in Jamaica Plain. What strikes you walking into the tap room is how uncharacteristic of Ptown it is (in a very  good way) as it feels more like Brooklyn or either one of the Portlands. The vibe is urban and playful, which is not lost on the gaming minded guys at the helm. Not only do they encourage the screen-obsessed to come in and wage video competition, they also have touchy feely cards, dice, backgammon, boardgames, darts and a pool table for the less virtual crowd. And on top of all this goodness: PBC is an “activist” brewery where the select brews themselves give back to progressive, valuable PTown causes—namely The Generations Project, Summer of Sass and The Commons.  Purposeful pleasure!


To view the original Sabian Symbol themed 2015 Cosmic Blague corresponding to this day: Flashback! The degree pointof the Sabian Symbol will be one degree higher than the one listed for today. The Blague portrays the starting degree of for this day ( 0°,  for instance), as I typically post in the morning, while the Sabian number corresponds to the end point (1°) of that same 0°-1° period. There are 360  degrees spread over 365 or 6 days per year—so they near but not exactly correlate.


Typos happen. I don’t have a proofreader. And I like to just write, post and go!
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