Even though this knocks me past four entries for the month, at least one if not all were not up to my exacting standards — aka they were garbage. Extra points for consistency. Speaking of consistency, the consistency of my bowels could use some work. Perhaps it is the preponderance of Mexican and not-quite-Mexican (Taco Bell) I have consumed of late. In homage to the latter, after a long long evening I offered to make, quite literally, a Taco Bell run at just past 4am Sunday morning. Literal in that I am writing about it. It happened to pour rain for only the four-to-five minutes it took me to run the three-quarters of a mile or so to The Bell and yes, I was running. But it made for an excellent scene as I was wearing a dress shirt and loosened tie from an improv performance. I had that Hollywood epic rain-run look, except instead of a wedding or some heart-rending moment, I was...not. I did manage to have awesome interactions with the clientele, as per usual. The only mistake I made was not ordering even more food.
A look back halfway through the month and all the way through my life should suggest I should know better concerning my own bowels, but I doubt that'll stop me. How will I use my griping double-entendre then? Artists must make sacrifices.
Speaking of things I like that don't give me diarrhea (although I am not certain of this yet), old people. Sometimes they are all ornery and I just want to drop eff bombs on them, but sometimes these folks are just so damn sweet it hurts. Take some lady today who asked if I worked in the building, the building I happen to live in. "No," I told her. "Oh, you look familiar," she said. What I should have said was, "Have you seen Heroes, or the new Star Trek movie?" Instead I said, "Well I do live here." She then proceeded to complement me on my haircut and to ask if she were overdressed for the weather — she was, but old people get cold easily. I have no idea what I will be like when I'm an old man, but I know that a) I'd like to be a grandfather and b) I'd like to have a porch. These things seem essential. I'd like to dispense lots of knowledge to my grandchildren, which will prove woefully outdated, but that perhaps they will accept as wisdom on account of me being old and all. I will drink a lot of whiskey and beer. And sarsparilla. Leave off the "sars" for a Spanish-sounding last name. Whether I will kick the Mexican habit remains to be seen.
I just killed a big-ass fly (not to be confused with a big assfly) in my kitchen with a paper towel. I am real proud of myself.
Does anyone else think that "April Showers brings May Flowers" is begging to be made into a porno? I mean, you wouldn't even have to change the title if you didn't want. And that seems like more than enough at the moment.