Lately, when I wonder the halls of the paper product isles at the big boxes and often some smaller to medium sized boxes, I feel that we have left the golden age of designs and entered into a darker more futuristic reality. Have we entered the Scanner Darkly world of napkins and paper towels, not to mention the obvious balance of softness and strength lent to the world by TP? This is where reality starts to bend and the double crossing begins. Is it 1984 all over again where the world powers at be exist only to dumb down napkins to blue or paisley green?
When you gasp awake in the morning from your nightly terrors and pull yourself from your flannel sheets, when you crawl towards the shower on all fours like some mongrel canine unleashed upon the world after years of non-stop manhandling, who are you? Do you look into the mirror and question the image of the ragged feral beast in front of you?
I went to the zoo for picnic last night. The first thing I saw was the business end of a giraffe, I thought myself what is it all for? Life or a giant giraffe butt? You do the math. Sure it’s qualitative math, it’s about Identity and happiness in slavery. I do understand the zoo, but it is a prison. It’s tangent Friday, so if you get lost in this mental maze stay away from the hedges because their bite is worse than their bark.
Talking in your Sleep Parody - courtesy of My Wife
When you close your eyes and you go to sleep And it comes out like the sound of a heartbeat I can hear the things that you're dreamin' about When you open up your rear and the truth comes out
You tell me that you eat beans You tell me that you like beans You tell me that you love beans And I know that I'm right
'Cause I hear it in the night I hear the secrets that you keep When you're tooting in your sleep
As you tilted back your drunken head and smile at the pretty sprinkling lights, think about what it all means. People have died for you and they have died for themselves. It’s the choice they made. Your choice generally is light beer vs.
Its Friday somewhere, really shouldn’t be some when?
If the product is free, what are the costs of production and the equipment? I mean just like there is no such thing as a free lunch, there is no such thing as free milk.
The complex interplay of lemon and vodka is often too complicated for the populace at whole to understand. The multiple effects of temperature of the vodka, the amount of ice, soda or no soda, tonic or no tonic and the exact placement of the twist is crucial to understanding the reaction of the person who eventually drinks said cocktail.
Momentum of my fight leads me to the precipice of my flight. Sometimes I lose my senses and feel numb to the consequences of my actions, other times I am willing to stand against the ocean even as its currents wash me down into the depths with no safe return. Writing will forever be my therapy because drugs last only so long and fight loses its edge eventually. The baseline is where my sanity is kept; it rules the flavor of the day: am I cookie dough or raspberry swirl?
