2005-03-15
castor oil for your boils
Remember "Today's Special"?
Boy, they were right.
And that spinning, leaping, running, swinging, skipping, smiling, clapping, pirouetting free-spirited stripey-shirt mime really helped make their point. Today is fucking special.
I think that mime part of that show ruined all potentially fun times for me. What kind of fun are we having if we're not running and leaping through springy fields of grass and spinning around swingsets? Boring fun, that's what kind.
But this doesn't explain why the words "a real crazy party" evoke scenes of a pick-up and a car w/ all the windows down careering parallel through the streets of somewhere with the drunken occupants of both vehicles swinging chains and firing pistols at each other. Of course, no one gets hurt. Otherwise it wouldn't be a party anymore.
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That is all for today.
***
Ok, one more thing, since I actually did leave the house today.
First of all, on my way home, I was standing on the platform sort of near the mid-to-butt end of the train, and as the train pulled in, a man in a red tracksuit went busting down the platform past everyone as fast as he could, yelling something urgent,... towards the back of the train. ? I didn't get it. Not a suicide that's for sure. Imagine. You've decided to jump in front of the next train but it's on the way in so you start booking it -- the wrong way. Oh, lawd, that would make a man religious.
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One moment: - Let's give a shout out to bobbysuprise who is the ONLY ONE of all you morks to call me Maharishi, as I had expressly requested.
***
Second of all, on my way out, while I was at the bus stop, a Quebecois man [senior, so not creepy-like] starting talking to me about the shameful behavior of people throwing all their garbage in the bus shelter. I agreed. (It is ugly and disgusting. Animals. oh man if only I said "oui. quels animaux." to him.) So anyhow, then he asked me what time the bus was coming and I told him 11:41, when it was only 10:40. Then when he looked puzzled I pointed at my watch and repeated myself with my best enunciation. Because I got confused and couldn't read my watch. So then, b/c my French pronunciation of numbers is ok, apparently, he just thought I was crazy, instead of a nervous anglo.
I have to go now but to make a long story short there was also an older lady who came up (61 - she told us) and she had the best older lady makeup on ever (imagine if unicorn senior citizens wore makeup) and she was really nice. They were joking about sugar and being old and joking me around too and I was laughing along. And when I tried to explain that I didn't really understand or speak french too well they thought I had said I'm French from France. Non non. The funny thing was I think they were going to believe me.
But I spilled the beans.
o man. beans. don't even get me started.
pansycline at 7:24 p.m.