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flamingswordSo life's been sticking to the hold-the-onions darker side of care lately with a side order of silly and a medium diet crazy with no ice. Would I like to supersize that? Sure.
I wish they had a White Castle in Texas. Doug and I would like to go there, and complete our descent into cackling hysteria. And since seeing that movie why are all the insanity references in my head communicating themselves in terms of fast food? Perhaps because fast food is our society's icon of implied insanity? A culture revolving around sharing substandard, nutritionally valueless fare with those you love? Doomed. I want to have a feast day sometime soon. Or a picnic, or that symposium we had hypothesized, I would like some time to reconnect with people over really good food and without worries about icky, sucky real life intervening. I want impossible things to be possible for one day. I want Christina to chill out and not talk about God. I want Bryan and Jenn to forget that they don't care to return people's calls and just show up.
In other news, Doug got a tattoo yesterday. He now has an ankh between his collarbones. This was in response to the panic attack, a response of pure Dadaism. To situations that make no sense, sometimes the solutions have to make less sense. It seems to be working. He's looser in his skin already, even with the about-to-fall-off surgical pad and crappy taping over the tat.
I wish they had a White Castle in Texas. Doug and I would like to go there, and complete our descent into cackling hysteria. And since seeing that movie why are all the insanity references in my head communicating themselves in terms of fast food? Perhaps because fast food is our society's icon of implied insanity? A culture revolving around sharing substandard, nutritionally valueless fare with those you love? Doomed. I want to have a feast day sometime soon. Or a picnic, or that symposium we had hypothesized, I would like some time to reconnect with people over really good food and without worries about icky, sucky real life intervening. I want impossible things to be possible for one day. I want Christina to chill out and not talk about God. I want Bryan and Jenn to forget that they don't care to return people's calls and just show up.
In other news, Doug got a tattoo yesterday. He now has an ankh between his collarbones. This was in response to the panic attack, a response of pure Dadaism. To situations that make no sense, sometimes the solutions have to make less sense. It seems to be working. He's looser in his skin already, even with the about-to-fall-off surgical pad and crappy taping over the tat.