I basically just blogged what I was going to blog here in the comments section of Joanna's blog. Blog blog blog. So I've decided to make this post a fun game. Out of the following, pick what isn't true:
1. I bled on a deposit envelope today.
2. I then deposited said deposit envelope.
3. I saw a man in Walgreens that looked like a short Ali G and said, "Hey, you look like a short Ali G!" (exclamation point theirs)
4. I slammed my finger in my desk drawer.
5. I wrote "shutup shutup shutup shutup shutup" et cetera in the margins of my notebook when this girl in class was pontificating how Lear was quite possibly mad, man.
6. I asked my boss "What's up with you, yo?"
7. I ate a pimento cheese sandwich.
8. I ate 32 Easter M&M's.
9. I told everyone I could find that I'm currently hormonal.
10. I woke up at 5:30 this morning and watched Access Hollywood and Extra.
11. I spin-kicked a woman at work in the teeth after she told me she could tell I was tired based on the giant sallow bags under my eyes.
12. I followed the spin-kick with the scissor-split onto her face and choked her with my thigh vices, after which I said, "Who's tired now, PoopFace?!"
You tell me. You tell me what's true. You tell me who I am, at least today.
We didn't talk about the Specksynder in class today, and that fact emptied me.
I'm going to Memphis in two weeks. I will bring my banjo and my dad's socks will be knocked off and he'll say, "I'm so sorry I said you had a big head and chubby knees. You do, but at least you can play Bile Dem Cabbage Down and Cripple Creek. And, hey, at least you're not wearing shorts."
I repeat myself a great deal. I'm nothing but a pinwheel. A merry-go-round (let me off, assholes!). A cycle. It's like that joke about the dog throwing up, looking away, looking back and going, "Oh my gosh, food!", eating it, then throwing up again.
Not my dog. The metaphorical dog. Me.
"We are budding like a fruit underneath a rusting roof. We dream our dreams and sing our songs of the fecundity of life and love. Of life and love. Of life and love." That is for you, but you already knew that, as everything is. Tu et vous. Tous.