sixes and fixes

Cube that. Dice that. Baby needs new shoes... or gnu shoes, if that's the right thing to do. Horse shoes and handgranades - close! Yet so far away.
Ka-fuckin'-BLAM. Hobble to the cobbler. Tinker away, lad.
What's in a name? What's in a number? What in the name of....
Rapture and rupture - be ready to split, in either case. And like so many sausages that have come before, the casings are splitting. Turn the heat down a tad. Simmer down.
6/6/6 magick. Tonight there is a convergence of that bunch that would if they could with all this numerical hoo-hah brings to the table. Hollywood is the perfect place for such, and Hollywood it shall be, although ol' Anton LaVey made San Francisco his home base for so long. SO long, baby. Bye.
Would I attend such? What was that line Groucho Marx had as to belonging to any club that would actually have him? Exactly.
We spin to the past in a San Francisco moment - a Solstice Celebration held at Kirby Cove on the immediate Marin side of the Golden Gate - witches!
Bunkers from wars past made for the unfolding saga of Persephone and her days in Hades - naked, arising from the sea.
Dance, dance, dance - in concentric circles, kissing and weaving. Symbols and methodologies and then some. Let us name names: Rosie (of the River) Danielle and Pat Judge officiated the masses at this Mass of sorts.
And here it is so many years later. Magick and magic. Tricks not for kids.
Oh, to have great friends. There may be a trip by train (Whoo-Hoo!) up to visit Northern California soon - this was offered by Steven Carlton the other day. I guess it is cheaper to ship my bulk up there than to have to dish out the large cash to visit here. Makes sense, and I get to vacate the premises!
Let's see how this manifests in the next week or so as we finalize our Chapter whate'er it may be.
Lord, I want this over and done with, and done with care.
Here's to gettting yer ya yas out.
Paint it black - paint it black, you devil. Rock on!