My Robot Is Pregnant theme song!

The recession hit. Rus doesn’t even have any work for me. That guys been around since before horses came to this continent. Yesterday I worked on my garden, painted the living room, and got back to the leather bedspread I started months ago. If I don’t get some work soon all this time on my hand is gonna turn me gay. I mean, I’m rearranging the house, sewing my clothes, organizing my linen. Things a tough guy isn’t supposed to care about. I’m about to do my taxes I’m so bored.

Then Ivan called. He is a stylist I met once. A super gay Mexican makeup artist. He lives in the Mission and so Glenn and I went by this afternoon to look at a project he wanted done. Building a simple closet for his clothes in a spare room. Glenn and I looked it over then retired to the bar to discuss. Looks like it’d be way cheaper for him to just buy a wardrobe.

So we can turn down work. Things aren’t rock bottom yet. But we’re standing on the sand that sifts all the way to bedrock. Just grind my heel down and I can feel the resistance of the end.

Thankfully it’s a beautiful day in San Francisco. And we aren’t working so we only pay happy hour prices at the bar. A guy even stopped at a red light and asked for my business card. He wants to demo a bathroom. There’s hope out there. However, in the interest of economy, I didn’t take a picture today. I figure uploading photos from my phone sucks a lot of battery, and recharging costs money. So please, in light of the new economy, just read today. Don’t look at any pictures. And get used to it.