Saturday, December 15

Here is where I am. My legs are crossed into a Native American pattern, and just one of my dried and crusty feet sits in my lap, like some deformed, yet pleasantly quiet baby, wearing a golden ring on its bulbous, what would it be, arm? My lap, and similarly the remainder of my lower half, is covered in inadvertently stolen, sparkling cherry screaming pajama pants. They are very thin, very comfortable, and despite these things, not mine. I meant to return them before Lindsay left, but I didn’t, so I must accept this flamboyant night wear as my charge. I am drowning in responsibility.

I walked outside and downstairs today, only to allow my phone charger eating, constipated, asshole of a dog to urinate and defecate. She did not defecate. Shocking.

I am still blinking boogers from my eyes as I’m typing this, and although you don’t know this, I am making beau coups of typos and stealthily rectifying them before they can be observed. That’s just the kind of person I am.

Ambulatory appendage update! I have stretched out my legs to rest on the chairs in front of me, and right foot (the baby) is tingling with awakening. Such miserable shit. Fortunately no one is around to poke or prod my yawning limb at a time like this. I’m channeling memories of Melody and my days of prolific toilet top reading. But that’s another story for anther time.

Actually, to be honest, the story has been 90% written; maybe 85% if you consider that it hasn’t been edited. Maybe I’ll work on that later, so I have something cohesive on my sister’s various adolescent torture tactics to present to the world. Yes, I will write it! I will write it and inspire siblings across the land!

Last night I thought of a funny way of describing myself which is “poop poured into a human mold (Candice, 2007).” This isn’t always necessarily accurate thought. Sometimes I’ll make an effort, style my hair, slap on some make up, don a tutu, and then I may be more accurately described as poop poured into a human mold then adorned with a ribbon; a pink and red ribbon, a sparkling cherry screaming ribbon.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

There are 2 people in my life that are "humans poured into a poop mold" in my opinion right now.


WST