It’s the gawd day son, fugheddaboutit. I don’t know shit about saints. Butt. I’ve hit that frequency where it all clicks in. I wake up and go go go. Miles. Kilometers, even. If I didn’t have to go back to work on Halloween (or ever again!), I’d likely just do this — just this — for the time being and foreseeable future. I don’t wanna write, I just wanna ride. Tonight I human it up in a hotel room in Saint Charles — not Saint Louis. My last night in Missouri. Aloha.