so i have some potentially exciting and lifechanging news for you all.
that’s maybe how a timeshare rep would start talking to me, to you, to all of us here in the reading circle. thank you for joining me at such short notice. i’m sure you’ll find this visit an adequate use of your time, though not a worthwhile one. let’s get right into the tofu of the meeting, shall we?
banana peels have the worst BO ever. if they were in the lockerroom at the fruitskin gym, well let’s just say, some apples would be exchanging glances, is all. shit. they reek through plastic. that’s potent.
it’s called a SHOWER
THERE. that was my icebreaker. now onto item numero uno.
this is the week of no. some lady wrote the “year of yes.” this is the “week of no. hell no.” and not because i’ve been rejecting but because i just feel like grabbing someone by the collars and yelling “no! hell no!” in their face, not out of disgust, but out of desperation. people’s behavior is getting out of control. and it’s leading me to develop hives and twitches. and really, i should take responsibility for my own hives and twitches and not blame them on other people. but get it straight: i am blaming them on myself. AND other people. itching and twitching is a good distraction though. it makes people stare at you out of concern and barely concealed disdain, but not a speck of admiration. and that way, i can easily shoot (spittle included) “right back atcha, pal! no! hell no!”
i told someone this today:
i need to have a barbeque
where i take pictures of people
and barbeque them
it would be an ego roast
then everyone would dance
and swat at bugs
i don’t know what that means. i think it means i need a controlled way of releasing rage.
i’d like my face well-done
item 2. i got some letters, as hand-delivered by my mother yesterday evening. this makes me happy. my mother was hiding them from me! i would say i’m horrified, but i’m secretly pleased. seeing letters in the mailbox is fun. but getting mail that was withheld because of house arrest is even better. i like that i’m just a pawn and a prisoner.
wow, your life is so square
item 3. grown men having corporate birthday parties. they stand tall around the cake talking small and dishing out age-old congratulations on “surviving” “another” “year.” and there are seldom candles. because if you lit matches in the presence of such awkward formality, there would be many little explosions and one big noiseless fire.
paper-shredder confetti?! you crazy cats!
item 4: coffee implosion. i have too much coffee in my system right now, i will implode. i can’t type without bugging out my eyes. and i can’t think of much now besides whirs and blurs. my favorite thing is when you’re hyper and someone says a topic that you can contribute to and so you BLAB and blab and blab and the little switch that says “shut up now” breaks. and someone brings cake just so you shut up. it happens all the time.
that’s me. i’m the baby.