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I like people who are rough around the edges. Unfortunately, I am not one of them. It’s not even entirely clear that I have edges.
February was not fully perfect. Cases in point: Something has gone horribly wrong with all the butter in Canada. Elvira is no longer ours for the hugging. Daft Punk has broken up. Additional case in point, pointedly true every month: our collective sanity has broken up (HA HA HA I MADE A FUNNY! “COLLECTIVE SANITY” […]
Is it any wonder that every culture has a flood story? Of course not! Every aeon or so, there are these SUPER MASSIVE, LANDSCAPE CHANGING FLOODS OF EPIC PROPORTIONS. On a smaller scale, tsunamis and storm surges overwhelm coastal regions, bringing map-update-worthy changes of their own.
“What would be the kindest choice?” The question is attributed to Mr. Rogers, but its answer lived large in Stafford Rosenberg.
You can’t know, as they’re happening, which things will have All The Impact upon you. Case in point: in ninth grade French class, something provoked my friend Jay to stand up and cry out, “How am I expected to be victorious under these circumstances?”
Extra is so much more than just a brand of chewing gum…if it even is one any longer. I really don’t know, having not paid much attention. Back in the day, I alternated between Wrigley’s Spearmint and Doublemint, with the occasional pack of Big Red to mix things up, until I kicked the gum habit […]
I’m a lifelong insomniac, and there are certain questions I ask at night. What would it look like if we all really believed we were beloved? Is it possible to perform (enact? commit?) a single shenanigan? Why haven’t Pancake and/or Sammy been adopted yet?
Sometimes I walk around grinning like an idiot. Mask or no mask, there’s that stupid grin that I wouldn’t want to shake off if I could. When the mask is on, I wonder if my eyes look crazy. Kinda hope so. Kinda worried about that too…my hoping so, I mean. Mushy brain? Hmmm.
Fat Tuesday is feeling a little gaunt this year. New Orleans itself has replaced Mardi Gras with something called Yardi Gras, which is well intentioned but sounds like a gimmick for selling patio furniture.
Cats, man. Is there anything more that really needs to be said? There must be, otherwise we’ve been wasting our time with Felis Catus, and that just isn’t possible.