". . .my brain is falling apart like wet cake."

This was Dave Beer's opening gambit the last time I saw him. After a three-day bender, red-brown stubble all over a face that was used to a razor and a washcloth. He wasn't sure, but something had to change and despite a bit of a shaky grip, there were plans in place for change and I wish there was some sort of phrase that was both the inverse and encompassing of a "shit-eating grin."

It is an image, phrase and tone-of-voice-eye-contact-combo that has come to mind lately. I am sitting in my (new! note that I have Successfully Moved) room, listening to the Stone Roses' good album, just sort of sitting with things, not the least of which are all the doritos I ate in lieu of a lunch today.