Que onda guero?

I want to reach that glory land.
I want to shake my savior's hand,
And I want to sing that rock and roll.
I want to 'lectrify my soul,
'Cause everybody been making a shout
So big and loud, been drowning me out.
I want to sing that rock and roll.


Well, mateys, it's official and it's in my greasy little hands: Furious Fist of the Drunken Monkey #2, with a very special backup feature illustrated by yours truly. My gaggle of copies arrived in the post on Saturday and what can I tell you? Rich gave me big-font credit on the inside front cover for my one, lame little page, which is much more than he had to do. Look for it on the shelf for the low, low price of $2.99.

And tell 'em Crazy Jer sent ya!
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As I type, little bitty flakes of scabby skin are falling from my head.

Oh, I don't blame Blu, though. "Give me the juice," I told her on Saturday. "Bleach my head like it's never been bleached before. I want to be day-glow, sister! I want to be Long Beach's paunchiest albino! Make me sing, baby! Make me sing!"

So, after 45 minutes of the worst abuse ever inflicted on my poor scalp, Blu decided enough was enough and she rinsed out my hair. And it was bleached all right, but my head was raw and blistered.

Look, I know that the bleach bit isn't as en vogue as it once was, but I like it and Lord knows there isn't much in this world that I've been forced to suffer for, so, heck, I might as well begin with my coiffure.

So if you happen to see me on the street, feel free to remark, "love that flaming, damaged head!" but please: don't touch. It still kinda hurts.
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A quick look through the Blogger archives and it looks like I've been sugar-free for exactly one year.

I initially thought that I could remain sugarless for two weeks and that would be that, but those weeks somehow mutated into a month, which, before I knew it, suddenly became a whole blessed YEAR. Frankly, I'm amazed at myself.

And the other weird thing is I'd grown more strict with it as the months passed. If sugar is an ingredient, no matter how far down the list... uh-uh. Get that poison away from me, chum. I've allowed a couple of indulgences (like barbecue sauce, though I'm ashamed to say it), but I've mostly stayed on the straight and narrow.

There've also been some What the Hells. My sister's apple pie at Thanksgiving. A half-slice of bread pudding on New Years Eve. Rarities.

Mainly, I don't know, I just feel better. I'm not as run-down. I sleep through the whole night. I've cut out a substantial amount of general jitteriness.

I'm hanging with it.
...


Oh, Beck released a new EP on iTunes. Go buy it, you squares.
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I've gotten several notes from thoughtful people that enjoyed my One! Hundred! Sketches! feature, which made me smile. It's difficult to explain to non-bloggers, but there's a very unique *zing* that occurs when people stop to let you know that they enjoyed something you've posted into cyberspace. So, thanks for saying so, you.

Now get your own websites so I can heap blessings on your head!
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That's all for now. Tune in tomorrow for A Very Special Announcement from JeremyBear.com.

Happy Fat Tuesday/Chinese New Year!