Shucks

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Here at the Feel Good Lost castle, we tend to huddle behind our impenetrable fortress walls when the sky goes grey and the wind whips up something fierce. Huddling for warmth, plotting our next maneuvers, introspectioning, reflecting, contemplating, scheming up a storm, being as productive as possible to fend off the winter induced lethargia. But its hard to keep cheer and even harder to stay tropical. My parrot here knows this best. He's having to beak these words out while I dictate and shiver over here in the corner. Fingers are no good for typing at the moment. They can barely clutch the whiskey bottle. I blame this mighty thin bear skin. Sir Thomas could have left the cave door open.

 Yes indeed, trials and tribulations abound here in frigid reaches of Arctica.
Studying is out of the question, unless its McLuskerson's Guide to Spontaneous Combustion.
Good grief.

This best come to a halt before every wheel rattles off the apple cart. 

But never fear, spirits abound even under polar duress.  

Nothing a half contained conflagration in the stone hearth. and some Van Halen can't solve. 

RUNNING WITH THE DEEEEEVIL

The beginning of Atomic Punk would be a great opener for a DJ set, if you didn't know.

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This video is such a tease right now.

Actually ran into this guy walking down Broadway in New York late this summer. 

I can't get enough the stripped down psychedelia of the song and video.

Where in high heaven can you find a shirt like that?

Not here atop this snowy mountain peak, thats for sure.