(no subject)
i've had this remarkably large pimple for the better part of a week now. wiping the fog from the mirror every morning, i watched as it grew from an ominous little blip to a full-scale burial mound, consecrated in the valley between my lower lip and chin. poking, prodding, and benzoyl peroxide could not deter this dermatological menace, and so i was only somewhat taken aback when it started talking to me.
at first i thought i'd gone completely over the edge, or perhaps drafted into an especially warped gunter grass novel. i'm generally not on speaking terms with my blemishes, but this one was just so sophisticated, so friendly, so...spot on...that i just couldn't fail to recognise it any longer. i ignored the frightened looks and conspiratorial whispers on the street and launched a tentative dialogue, at first encouraging it to move elsewhere, but thawing a bit after it gave me some excellent advice. a few examples of its enduring wisdom:
"never go out with abercrombie employees." unfortunately this came a bit late, as i giggled my way somewhat uncomfortably through the misanthropic hodgepodge of the rules of attraction, then extracted myself as quickly as possible following a general lack of conversation over dinner.
"forgo world series tickets in favour of solomon burke." two great loves, but only one income. which to choose? an evening with the hated giants, or the inimitable king of rock 'n' soul? my credit card had already made its opinions known, but only the pimple could put things in the necessary perspective.
"gogogo airheart are gonna be huge, dude." trendy little bastard, isn't he? i wonder if he has a lipstick & cigarettes profile...
sadly i fear i may not receive much more guidance. i thought the silence throughout high and low last night might've been out of respect for kurosawa-san, but the little fellow kept mum the entire evening, even after liberal amounts of sake in the company of miss toastednut. furthermore, the mound has begun to settle into more of a disc form, and i fear it may disappear completely by the time i return from my upcoming long weekend in chicago. that is, if i'm not institutionalised before my flight tomorrow.
perhaps i should eat more chocolate??
at first i thought i'd gone completely over the edge, or perhaps drafted into an especially warped gunter grass novel. i'm generally not on speaking terms with my blemishes, but this one was just so sophisticated, so friendly, so...spot on...that i just couldn't fail to recognise it any longer. i ignored the frightened looks and conspiratorial whispers on the street and launched a tentative dialogue, at first encouraging it to move elsewhere, but thawing a bit after it gave me some excellent advice. a few examples of its enduring wisdom:
"never go out with abercrombie employees." unfortunately this came a bit late, as i giggled my way somewhat uncomfortably through the misanthropic hodgepodge of the rules of attraction, then extracted myself as quickly as possible following a general lack of conversation over dinner.
"forgo world series tickets in favour of solomon burke." two great loves, but only one income. which to choose? an evening with the hated giants, or the inimitable king of rock 'n' soul? my credit card had already made its opinions known, but only the pimple could put things in the necessary perspective.
"gogogo airheart are gonna be huge, dude." trendy little bastard, isn't he? i wonder if he has a lipstick & cigarettes profile...
sadly i fear i may not receive much more guidance. i thought the silence throughout high and low last night might've been out of respect for kurosawa-san, but the little fellow kept mum the entire evening, even after liberal amounts of sake in the company of miss toastednut. furthermore, the mound has begun to settle into more of a disc form, and i fear it may disappear completely by the time i return from my upcoming long weekend in chicago. that is, if i'm not institutionalised before my flight tomorrow.
perhaps i should eat more chocolate??