What a difference a walk makes.
Brain never got the rest, ergo oxygen, it needed. Because I worked on bank/bills in the morning. And wrote a letter to HHS. So, no work on vanagain. Just another pointless walk downtown - well, to mail tat letter/info, and to mail letter/info to AAA. And that was it. And head did prove to be a bother. But I decided to get two slices of pizza anyway. If I go to the doctor he or she will say, "You are so thin, we need to do some tests." And they will later tell me I suffer from an unusual deficiency in gluten and sausage, "So, you need an infusion of pizza, right away!" It's cheaper just to listen to my body, and notice how everyone else is spilling into everyone else's personal space, talking so loudly because their hearing has become all clogged up and calcified. I want to become just like them. Always sneezing and wheezing because of the gluten gunking up my cells. Going to football games only to discover there is no football just a giant bottle of Coke. Living in houses that repel cockroaches by their sheer awfulness of design. I want to walk up that hill with a youngin' hanging on my hand, saing, "Well, without cars cutting through these woods, we'd never be able to walk down their paths, and then our coats would get all full of burrs."
"And wildfires couldn't spread so fast, daddy!"
"And wildfires couldn't spread, dumb pumpkin butt."
I want to spend 8 hours a day in a government trailer that tilts one way in the morning in the morning, and the opposite way in the afternoon, so we would never have to push our own pencils.. And buy plastic clothes specifically designed to promote spontaneous combustion. I want a life over the rainbow and in the gutter of social dissociation, where everyone thinks he or she is king of the country when in fact they are just heads growing on stalks of corn. This is what I want for myself. And you should too. Because the best antibiotics are made by people who are already in the process of rotting away. We are the bread of the landscape. We are the butter of the balding turkeys. We are captivated by good cheer, and rolling through the fields in tanks. Boisterously. Dressed like famous Disney characters only demanding sex. We are the marbled meat of the interstates. We are the mashed potatoes of transfat. We are the gluten that holds this collapsing corpse-politik together. All raise your asses and let out one big RIP.
I listen to my clogging brain and it tells me how to live, and I give a little skip, and I stumble and fall through the golden gates of very popular dementia.
"And wildfires couldn't spread so fast, daddy!"
"And wildfires couldn't spread, dumb pumpkin butt."
I want to spend 8 hours a day in a government trailer that tilts one way in the morning in the morning, and the opposite way in the afternoon, so we would never have to push our own pencils.. And buy plastic clothes specifically designed to promote spontaneous combustion. I want a life over the rainbow and in the gutter of social dissociation, where everyone thinks he or she is king of the country when in fact they are just heads growing on stalks of corn. This is what I want for myself. And you should too. Because the best antibiotics are made by people who are already in the process of rotting away. We are the bread of the landscape. We are the butter of the balding turkeys. We are captivated by good cheer, and rolling through the fields in tanks. Boisterously. Dressed like famous Disney characters only demanding sex. We are the marbled meat of the interstates. We are the mashed potatoes of transfat. We are the gluten that holds this collapsing corpse-politik together. All raise your asses and let out one big RIP.
I listen to my clogging brain and it tells me how to live, and I give a little skip, and I stumble and fall through the golden gates of very popular dementia.