merry christmas
isn't it funny that we can feel so o debilitatingly romantic and not have a whole hell of a lot of idea who about or only a very vague idea at the most? isn't it funny how much time i have and how much of my mind i can unwind like a fine carpet into a useless pile of tangled thread in so much silent time? godbless the suburbs. isn't it funny that people can put the air conditioning on in 70 degree weather? isn't it lovely how good of a nap one can take after 4 glasses of wine, a lot of fake meat, and cheesecake in the middle of the afternoon? sleep heavy as water and dreams light as a bucket. isn't it great how a few perfect photographs of ripe naked bodies and firm local fruit can sweep the floor with a mountain of plastic? isn't it just perfect the way diet coke can create little carbonated aspartame swamps in the pits of your belly if you let it? isn't it weird, and a little nuts that we all twenty something ladies just want to be so thin our heads hang from our necks like tear drop christmas lights off of little white wires in a very unflattering way when half the fun of sex with men is their nibbling on your sweet reserves of chub like the chocolate gold mine of a croissant? isn't it funny how diametrically opposed 5 fat minds floating away with big word stormy ideas can be and still not allowed to leave the same room and laugh up some kind of rainbow about marijuana grinders, flasks, bandannas and toots and the maytals? where can I get a headlamp? and who can show me some live cows not in crimson polygons under plastic wrap on styrofoam plates?