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03.11.2003 - 8:37 p.m.
Tuesday
Last night I could not sleep.
I passed the night as though stepping from one stone to another
above a dark river, waking every few minutes to see the march
of the digital clock on my bureau. And as always happens in times
of insomnia, the jagged pieces of worry and doubt that I normally
smooth over and insulate, oyster-like, were digging into me.
A night where your brain is double clicked into "self-devour"
mode, and there are not nearly enough sheep to be counted. In
the wee hours, There Be Tygers.
I'm very, very grateful to
the fact that I rarely have that problem and am usually found
with a book dropped on my face with my mouth wide open and drooling
by 10 PM.
Also, I know that image was
so totally sexy.
I knew I was in for a restless
evening because I tried to keep JB awake for hours by talking
about...dog poop. For some reason, we were lying there trying
to come up with hypothetical evil tricks, dog-poop-wise, to play
on each other.
Me: The worst thing you could
do with dog poop? Seriously, you want to know?
JB: What.
Me: This is really, really bad. This would be Divorce Bad.
JB: What?
Me: (chortling helplessly) If you put just a bit, like just a
tiny chunk, in with the coffee grounds in the machine.
JB: Oho! Heh. Gross. But wouldn't it smell?
Me: Well, it might get covered by the coffee aroma...at FIRST.
Ha, and then it would be too late.
JB: You'd be all, "Slllluuuurp? GACK!"
Me: Wait, I know. What if I put some dog poop in your laptop?
JB: Oh my god, and closed it. So the poop would be like,
ploorrch.
Me: It'd be smashed everywhere! There's no cleaning that!
JB: Oh yeah, it'd be hosed. Hosed.
Me: The best is if I could have done it tomorrow morning. And
you, like, don't open your laptop until you're on the plane.
JB: The guy next to me's all, "Excuse me but is that dog
poop?"
Me: Heeee!
JB: I'd probably get stopped by security beforehand.
Me: "Sir, can you please open this and turn it on."
JB: "Sir, can you please explain this noxious brown substance?
And take off your shoes!"
Me: Heh, shoes.
JB: How about dog poop...hidden in your office? So you just smell
it, but you can't find it?
Me: Yeah, it's in a drawer or in a plant or something. People
come in and they're like wragggh, what IS that?
JB: Yeahh.
JB: *yawns*
Me: No! No! I'm not tired! This is fun!
JB: I have to get up early, baby.
Me: (wildly) Dog poop! In the peanut butter jar!
JB: (fading) Mm hm.
Me: In the dryer lint trapper dealie!
JB: Hrm. Snore.
Me: Damn. Hello, endless night stretching before me. Welcome.
:::
I have some random questions
for you guys. Because I thirst for knowledge. Also Corona Light.
1) Are the writers that do
Gilmore Girls the same ones that did Sports Night? Because the
snappy dialogue sounds similar to me.
2) How do people who do that gastric bypass surgery stay hydrated?
Aren't they only able to hold like 1/2 cup of matter in their
stomachs per day or something? Also how do they not eventually
starve once they get down to a normal weight?
3) How do you pronounce "haute couture"?
4) Is there something out there that sucks less than LimeWire?
5) Do any of those over the counter tooth whitening deals really
work? I tried using the brush-on gel stuff but it tasted so godawful
I gave up after just a few days.
go back :::
forward
0
comments so far.
I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004
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