Some people say they cry easily and some say it gives them a headache, but not me.
Something I ate has spent the last hour trying to claw its way out of my body but not through any of the normal exits and so I find myself learning that my threshold for pain is pretty darn high.
Why?
Because my insides feel like they haven’t been just dislocated but as if they have been carved out with a butter knife and then replaced inside my body without regard for whether they fit there.
Good times my friends, good times.
At some point I’ll go lie in a hot pool of water and moan a little bit or just submerge my whole head.
Won’t do much for solving things, but at the moment it sounds like a half decent idea. Better read this post twice, there might not be much afterwards.
Bleah.
Actually I don’t think the tub thing will work ‘cuz the demon inside is determined to make me live long enough to punish me for a long list of transgressions committed and those yet to be committed.
Every time I am forced to enter the privy I encounter a scent that is so fetid and foul skunks are lined up at the door begging for the recipe.
Tonight I can bring peace to the middle east by threatening them with biological warfare that cannot be stopped.
It is a disappointing moment as things had improved quite a bit and this feels like more than minor bit of a backslide.
But I’ll to power through it cuz I have things to do and the gypsy lady has shared part of my future and I don’t want to miss that part.
Might try to skip over some other bits though like fast forwarding through commercials.
Too bad there is no guaranteed way of doing so, fast forwarding through parts of life that is. That would be pretty damn cool if we could.
Or if we can’t do that it might be nice to have a clone that we could assign chores to.
“Clone, go do the dishes, taxes and put in a full month at work cuz I need a vacation now. Of course I would get the rebel clone who would be like, “fuck this, I am not doing your crap.”
He’d be ornery, stubborn and wouldn’t bother to tell me he wasn’t going to do those chores. Not because he was afraid of me but because he wouldn’t want to even engage in a conversation about why he should do those things.
Damn clone is too darn similar to the real thing, which I suppose makes sense because he is a clone.
Had an idea for a radio show or podcast that would run late at night called Sleep With Me. Don’t know if it already exists or not and don’t care cuz I like the idea.
Could have all sorts of fun with that and the double entendres involved or maybe not.
Really, if you let me pepper your pike you’ll be happier and more fulfilled. Not only that you’ll get first crack at the podcast and hear me say “Sleep with me.”
I know, it is a little rough, but I just came up with it on the fly so give me a little time with it. Or volunteer to join in the spit and polish efforts and you’ll be guaranteed more insight into the work that makes the magic happen.
And that my friends is all you get in this joint tonight. Doesn’t matter if you know the passwords, this is done and you’ll have to put out for an extended session or find the after party.
Did I mention there are flames shooting out of me. 🙂
