It was early in my life, when I was but a little boy growing up on a placid street in a small town in a small state that hovered just above Indiana--we called it Skytopia, but maybe it was listed as something else on you Atlas. I don't know. Anyway, it was when I was young is all I am saying. And perhaps I was too young, that would be for my mother to decided, but I had a great time. Playing all day with the guys in the neighborhood. They beat my head into the gutter as my other self hid in a Magnolia tree. Later, when I had children of my own, I would know what it was like to leave them, but at the time I didn't know what it was like for my father. I am getting off track. Anyway: My one desire had been to have a nice dinner. All day, without eating. So I got to [redacted] and ordered some food. It smelled like shoe polish and my stomach was chrppng.

There was a woman, I noticed, alone in the bathroom. That is when I realized that I was not in the Men's room. I actually don't remember getting up and going, but I was there. This is analogous to birth--but is the inverse of death. In any case, the story continued while I thought of and this was the up shot of it all: [but] she didn't see me.



Her voice was a laconic purr and her purse was full of clickity change. I capered and she tossed pennies at me. This is where the laughs began. I forgot my hunger and we scooted, not paying our bill or even ordering food.

We got very close.

Perhaps, too close.

I had to call my close personal friend, Kells, bail me out. He said, "I got a solution" said R. Kells and he rubbed it on my knees which were making pale little bubbles of foam. This was the first indication of my problem to come. All of this was earlier, when I was first learing about life, and R. Kells, the DL himself, was teaching me, out on a playground, dovered in woodchips. I still have them in my teeth. But I called him and knew that he'd know what to do.

His breath always smelled like firs in spore--or whatever it is plants do to get warm. I didn't know. I slept through school.

Kells was a man.

So Kells, the woman and I, we ended up in a tight spot, partially becaues of Kells's miscaluclations (regarding the precise definition of infinity and arrest record) and partially because we thought it would be fun to play on the net. Foolish me. I should have known. Don't play on a net, and don't hang out with TUNAS.

I got a call on my cell phone from the caste of Scarecrow: The Secret (thanks Oprah), but I had my ringer turned off. That's not all that was turned off.

Then something fantastic happend. The woman, Kells and I were in her car, a late model horse, this all being long after the other occurences that happened to us, that we did not incur, but before the explosion of course,--and we were overtaken by a spirit of human dignity I hadn't felt since kinderschool. Perhaps my mother could love me now--of only she would reach out.

Then we got jacked.

Thoughts on a Tuesday

1) Spoons should only be used for breakfast foods. There is no reason for spoons to be used at other meals. I don't care about soup. That isn't my problem. You figure it out. In fact, spoons are the only tool that should be used at breakfast--no more forks or knives. If it doesn't work with a spoon it isn't breakfast.

2) I'm not wild about Orange as a color, especially dark Orange. I think we can do better. In my memory, everything is painted seafoam green, but I bet there was some Orange somewhere. I am pretty sure the carpet in my parents kitchen, before they divorced, was Orange. I don't know what color it was after the divorce. I don't know why we had carpet in a kitchen. There was also floral wallpaper in my parents' room. They started to tear it down so they could put something less disgusting up, but they stopped half way because there wasn't any need to finish.

3) Same with Fuscia. Did I spell that right? I don't care--it isn't a real color and doesn't deserve letters in any particular order.


4) I was walking up the hill to school on Sunday and crossed the road, but when I got halfway across I saw that there was a whole dead deer laying on the sidewalk on the otherside. I am glad I noticed it because if I'd gotten too close to it I am sure I would have caught the milk-sickness. Recently I had the norovirus and a kind of strep culture that doesn't cause strep throat. I am pretty sure now my immune system is so strong that I could cure people just by walking past them in the mall.

5) I was in a restaurant on Saturday night, getting a to-go order of food--so I could eat in the Nightlight--and there were two men, in their 40's/50's next to me. They really wanted to get UNC-Duke tickets. They were drunk and obnoxious. They kept stopping the waitress working the bar, where I was waiting to place my to-go order, and asking her to get the manager to call the owner to knows some guy he knows who scalps tickets. They talked loudly about how expensive the tickets were. They just wouldn't let it go and all I wanted to do was eat. I had a ticket, a student ticket to the game, and I seriously considered turning to them and saying, "Hey, I heard you all talking. I have a ticket I don't need" and giving it to them. They would think that I was a great person but I would know that they wouldn't be able to get into the game since it was a student ticket. I just wanted them to shut up with the waitress so I could get some food. I was so hungry. I did not give them the ticket, or talk to them, though I did glare when they were looking away from me.


Later, I did give my ticket to a guy I am in school with, and as far as I know, he had a good time.

6) I just threw away my spoon, but I wasn't done with it yet. Now I have no spoon to eat my yogurt with. What am I to do. Live-blogging sorrow.


7) The top of the yogurt container, fashioned into a scooping device is the second tool allowed to eat breakfast with. No others. Not even cups. If you can't drink it out of a spoon or a yogurt top fashioned into a scooping device, you can't use it.

8) When I was a young man, about eleven years old, I would get really depressed every Sunday. I was depressed because the weekend was over and therefore the opportunities that week for me to have an exciting adventure or to meet a girl who loved me were over. I don't know why I got depressed. The only time I ever actually did anything with anyone was during the week--I spent the weekends alone. I remember one time, the depression was extra bad because I realized that Hayley Mills wasn't my age, but was in factmy mother's age and at that point much older than I was.

At the time, my family lived in a house that backed up to the drive in. Though there were trees, I could see little bits of the screen, and could hear all of the personal-car-speakers. I would open my window at night and sit with my telescope, trying to make out what was going on. They showed mostly sub-Sleepaway Camp style slasher movies, so the evening air was filled with the buzzing of chainsaws and sheiks of horror.

I never saw anything good, but I didn't really know how to work the telescoope either so, what was I expecting?

9) If a yogurt top scoop does not work, it is permissible to root around in the staff (not faculty) breakroom for another eating tool--preferably a spoon, but if not available, a fork, if it is clear plastic and not metal. No metal forks. Ever.