Mother, mother ocean, I have heard you call. Wanted to sail upon your waters, since I was three feet tall. You've seen it all, you've seen it all. Watched the men who rode you, switch from sails to steam. In your belly, you hold the treasure that few have ever seen, most of them dreams, most of them dreams.

My head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus. It's that kind of morning.

If life gives you limes, make margaritas.

I'm getting old, don't wear underwear, and I don't go to church.

It was too much Tequila, or not quite enough.

The weather is here Wish you were beautiful.

What if life is just a cosmic joke, like spiders in your underwear.