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my brother called today, to tell me that he had been thinking all morning about all the terrible things i'd done to him when we were younger. i was quite sadistic, apparently. first complaint: when he was young and impressionable, i convinced him that it was necessary for everyone (EVERYONE) to have imaginary friends. i did not warn (as he would've preferred in hindsight) that only losers (his words, not mine) have imaginary friends. furthermore, after he was unable to make up his own imaginary friends, i created some for him. my exercise in stimulating creativity in the youth had gone terribly awry. who knows how long the poor kid lived with the imaginary friends of my imagination? second of all, i at some point informed him that dinosaurs never existed. whether this was an attempt to get him to question everything he learned or a way to calm his fears about jurassic park, i'll never know, but he swears up and down that i did this. this, apparently, caused him much embarrassment in his seventh grade biology class. in other news, i had a fascinating night tonight. what a night to not have my camera with me. first of all, a cop almost ran me over. i was walking through the walgreens parking lot, and he was in a rush to park in the fire lane. just because he can, i guess. i had hoped that he was at least running inside to get hemorrhoid cream or something urgent, but no, it was just guacomole potato chips. and then, when he was in line behind me, he started singing along with the muzak. imagine "here comes the rain again" in a disturbing falsetto. next, we went to go support edy in her singing debut. from what i've come to understand, the place we went was typical outside-miami-redneck-heavy-florida. uh, wow. it was karaoke night. we witnessed a large butchy type woman with the most obscene camel toe EVER, a non-blinking charles manson look-alike from french canada wearing a fishing vest called john fromthebar (he didn't work there), a little richard type (he sang "cuz i got high") and and and. i just wish i'd had my camera. edy was really good. actually, everyone was really good, but but but... oh! and then! as we were leaving, this jerk driving a corvette, pulled up behind us and asked if we were leaving. i said yes, but why? he wanted to park in our spot. the parking lot was empty. i pointed that out to him. he said, "oh, i'm sorry. i'm really drunk." then he parked and came over to harass us. turned out, he was a sleazy drunk, who thought we were seventeen and wanted to get us to go into the bar with him. when we told him to get away, he showed us his badge. he was a drunk-driving cop. and he mooned us as we drove away. now, here are some links from max: and this one's from me, because i just realized that i never posted it, for some odd reason. tho i may have emailed it to a bunch of you.
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kbk lives. (and believe it or not, i'm coincidentally wearing the kbk shirt today) who knew those guys cared so much? i'm somewhat impressed. hi sawt! /me waves |
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i was supposed to be a chia pet. they said i looked like a tree. at least no dogs peed on me.
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"it is (to describe it figuratively) as if an author were to make a slip of the pen, and as if this clerical error became conscious of being such. perhaps this was no error but in a far higher sense was an essential part of the whole exposition. it is, then, as if this clerical error were to revolt against the author, out of hatred for him, were to forbid him to correct it, and were to say, 'no, i will not be erased, i will stand as a witness against thee, that thou art a very poor writer'."
- søren kierkegaard
(passage gleaned from "seymour, an introduction" by j.d. salinger)
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