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Nightrider's Lament

"Why do they [write] for their money? Why do they [work] for short pay? They ain't getting nowhere and they're losing their share. They must have gone crazy back there." — Michael Burton (paraphrased)

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Tag: bills

The Usual Ain’t Much Hap’nin’

On February 6, 2018February 6, 2018 By wastedpilgrimIn LifeLeave a comment

Clinton, South Carolina, Tuesday, February 6, 2018, 11:18 a.m. This morning I wrote a NASCAR column for the Competition Plus website, which I do every week and will be posted before this one is over. I played a little guitar, trying to make sure I remember the words to a few more songs I might …

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Poverty Helps

On March 7, 2017 By wastedpilgrimIn WritingLeave a comment

Clinton, South Carolina, Tuesday, March 7, 2017, 10:45 a.m. I haven’t really had much to do. Local sports, or at least my market value for writing about it, has subsided for a while. Bills are outstanding at both ends, which means I am both owed and owing a decent amount. I go to the mailbox …

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Where’d It Go?

On April 22, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn LifeLeave a comment

I was up this morning at a little past seven. I fixed breakfast. I washed dishes. I paid bills. I talked with my mother for about an hour when she came over. I wrote a while. About an hour ago, I lunched on peanut-butter crackers, mixed nuts and Diet Coke. I played my guitar for …

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I Automatically Avoid the Automatic

On April 16, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn LifeLeave a comment

            Eighty percent of the phone calls I receive on my “land line,” as opposed to my “outer-space line,” are for no good reason. Here’s a general rule of thumb: If I need something, I must deal with a recording: If you have a billing inquiry, press 1. If you have a service issue, press …

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Another Morning In Paradise

On March 14, 2014March 14, 2014 By wastedpilgrimIn HumorLeave a comment

I was dreaming about something beautiful. I could probably describe it if I had not staggered into the den, faster than my wits would allow, stubbing my toe on the exercise bike/clotheshorse on my way to the front door, on which my beloved nephew was knocking. It was about 6:30. I had already awakened briefly …

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