When I was a kid I thought that I’d own a vast estate when I grew up. I thought that my worries would be limited to things like gardeners and rumours about squatters moving in at the bottom end of the property. I thought that money would be something I’d have but not something I’d have to think about, sort of like a pancreas.
None of that has worked out. There’s no estate, not even a small one. There are no gardeners and no squatters. There’s only the money I earn every month. There’s a pancreas, I think, but who knows for how long?
In the hold of such half-assed misery, I have to find meaning some other way. That’s what this is for.
The name martian r3d is just a rough translation of my names. I had to use a “3” for the “e” because someone called Jeff had already registered martianred.com.
The picture below was taken a long time ago. My wife insisted that I place it here as a sort of personal touch. I got new boots that day.