There are so many intelligent and articulate people covering the hard-hitting
issues in our country these days, that I felt it was my duty to cover the
rather inconsequential bullshit that tends to make up the vast majority of
our lives. Actually, I'll just be griping a lot which, if you weren't aware,
doubles as a synonym for complaining, and as a descriptor for
a sharp pain in the bowels.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Me[MyselfandI]Morial Day

Every now and then I just love messing around with Wordle. When it comes to art, I don't really have the old creative skill which, given the color scheme—among other things—of this blog, rather goes without saying. Still, thanks to talented people there are a great many variations and whatnot you can create of the word clouds Wordle creates. I opted to upload a chunk of text from a short story I'm working on and accept the default. It's quite interesting to see from small and large samples what words you have a penchant for using.

I am still wrapping my head around today being Tuesday, as Memorial Day Henry David Thoreau my brain off. The warmth of spring finally arrived, melting me a mite bit as I traversed a four-mile route. Unable to stop sweating, it was clear that whiskey and lemonade was in order. As the day wore on I got that sort of sneaky drunk that transpires when you are well-practiced at drinking. Translation: only I knew how much I was skirting the line of wasted.

As the night wore on, I like to blame fatigue rather than inebriation for an embarrassing episode of paranoia that set in late in the night whereby I thought I'd lost my computer. With unconscionable amounts of intellectual (this word might be a stretch) property on this bad boy, I was in a rather terrible way. I am just glad that at this moment I can laugh about it and, goodness, though every time I say I will back my shit up...I'm gonna back my shit up! Through embarrassment I do hope to mature and grow.

Relieved to have found my computer but queasy from incorrect balancing of food with spirits, I decided the classic detox run was a good idea. For it to be seven miles was not a good idea, as I sweat till I could sweat no more, nearing my peak of wobbly, tight-skinned, drooling mass. Though I will be a dripping, stinky human for the coming months, I am glad it's warm. Sometimes you beat the heat, and sometimes the heat beat(s) you.

More mindless musings on spring and summer sweating to come.

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