And he said, "Playyyy the best song in the world...or I'll eat your souls."
You know what I hate? 47/64. There is something awful, maniacal, diabolical about the number 47/64. There is something about this number that makes me want to break things.
I don't really understand why this particular fraction inspires such rage in me. It may have something to do with the fact that on Monday night I swam 2 miles non-stop in the pool, which is 64 laps, but in fact the 47th lap wasn't the worst, the 59th was. But I have no particular prejudice against 59/64. Speaking of my swimming, I had the following mental conversation with myself on lap 57:
"Don't change speed, keep your stroke consistent."
"That's not what you said last night."
"Wait a sec, why the hell did I just think that joke at myself?"
"Maybe cuz you're tired and trying to distract yourself from the physical exertion."'
"That's not it, I was having odd mental conversations with myslef on the third lap and I wasn't tired."
"maybe you're just weird."
"Well yeah, but that can't be the answer to every question about why I do strange things."
"Why can't it?"
"Because you're me, and I said so, and there's no way you can disagree with me because there's no way someone can disagree with themselves."
At this point I finished the lap and the internal conversation degenerated into me arguing belligerently with myself about whether or not it's possible to disagree with myself.
I don't really understand why this particular fraction inspires such rage in me. It may have something to do with the fact that on Monday night I swam 2 miles non-stop in the pool, which is 64 laps, but in fact the 47th lap wasn't the worst, the 59th was. But I have no particular prejudice against 59/64. Speaking of my swimming, I had the following mental conversation with myself on lap 57:
"Don't change speed, keep your stroke consistent."
"That's not what you said last night."
"Wait a sec, why the hell did I just think that joke at myself?"
"Maybe cuz you're tired and trying to distract yourself from the physical exertion."'
"That's not it, I was having odd mental conversations with myslef on the third lap and I wasn't tired."
"maybe you're just weird."
"Well yeah, but that can't be the answer to every question about why I do strange things."
"Why can't it?"
"Because you're me, and I said so, and there's no way you can disagree with me because there's no way someone can disagree with themselves."
At this point I finished the lap and the internal conversation degenerated into me arguing belligerently with myself about whether or not it's possible to disagree with myself.