Clumps of sugar and dusty pavements

Here's a tautology: Lionel Tate is not your husband.

Here's a definition:
su-i-cide n. [L. sui, of oneself + -CIDE] 1. the act of killing oneself intentionally 2. one who commits suicide 3. a grouping of slow turners. -- su'i-cid'al, adj.

Here's a brief report from the field: I have slept well, I have gotten unwanted requests, I have loved well, and tomorrow it all falls apart (or rather, it falls apart in five hours) when I have to go to work. Know the following: Saturday night's unpleasantness is behind me in a manner that involved a certain someone retching her guts out (but I must be adamant on her dying of breast cancer), Sunday night brought the end of flip-flip and the company of good friends and the warm embrace of Maba; Monday disappeared in a haze of sleep and thank you Alisha for the wake-up call at five pm for our dinner engagement that unfortunately did not pan out because everybody of Mediterranean persuasion decided to take the fucking day off -- though my salad and your pannini seemed to work out okay. Thank you Desireé for playing with my hair and saying you liked "talking with me" and thank you Cinco de Mayo for making me one step ahead of nausea and calisthenics... special thanks to young Alexis for stepping up to bat where a whole bunch of dumbass motherfuckers feared to tread -- loca, quiero creer que la pasamos bien -- also, before I forget (cuz this is more of a shout-out list than a raconteeuring), thank you Natasha for scrapbooking your Sunday night away and thank you Jesus for opening the first topless bar when you were eighteen years old. Now come on down and turn some insipid liquids to wine! Thank you Rare Moment of Lucidity for letting me call the cemetery and buying a plot with an adequate tombstone: "Even when his body gave out, his spirit soldiered on." We've known unpleasantries and weird moments... we've known pavement in our mouths... we've known future ex-wives and the agave-rot we had to endure, but mostly, we've known that no matter how bad it gets (and rest assured the badness never lasts that long), we've got our camaraderie to depend on... cuz where a blind man sees black, we see a good deal.