Overthunk

I live near the police station of my town. This evening, a beautiful evening with the sun slanting its golden rays through my open car windows, I was driving around, long hair flying, lipstick on, sunglasses on, listening to Sublime's song, "Get Ready." Interestingly, the way I timed it, it took just the perfect amount of time to leave the gas station, cross the parking lots and be passing right in front of the police station as Bradley is wailing, "Load up the bong! Crank up the song! Let the informer call 911! Load up the bong! Crank up the song! Let the informer call 911!" Why I do these things, I don't know.

(One of apparently several in the "Cleaning Out the Office" Series -- found scribbled on a scrap again) Swearingen: "You ever been beaten, Merrick?" Merrick: "Once, when I thought I had the smallpox, Doc Cochran..." Swearingen: "Are you dead? Pain, or damage, don't end the world. Or despair, or fuckin' beatin's. The world ends when you're dead. Until then, you got more punishment in store. Stand it like a man, and give some back."

Tally ho, blogketeers! I hope you are all well. I know I am clinging to a quartered potato in my own personal home remodeling/end of school year stew right now, but as I was cleaning up my office in preparation for putting new laminate floors in just five short months after the toilet flood incident , I found an old piece of titleless lovesick screed (a poem) scribbled on a yellow legal pad. I offer its debut here for your perusal. Enjoy! ------------------ 3/1/05 So quickly, and yet an eternity Before something new began. Sadness lingers like Chopin's fingers Ghostly upon the keys Playing notes I cherish But which echo impossibilities. And now a newish melody Distantly enters my heart At this distance I can't be sure, But it sounds more like Mozart. Though I have broken with the past And want to begin anew My wittily pirouetting soul still fears Being messily sawn in two. -------------------------------------- "I couldn't sleep at all last night..." Bobby Lewis