Are you ready for this jelly? The world's on fire. But never mind that. There's very little most of us can do about it except acknowledge the burning and whinge a little less like the callous, nonflammable bastards that we are. Also, my new favorite people are Dylan Moran and Richard Ayoade. Also, I've replaced crocheting with swimming. Also, I must look more attractive when I'm agitated. Well it's either that or men have actually reached negative numbers in self esteem and are now drilling past rock bottom into "hurt me because I deserve and like it" territory. I'm looking forward to rediscovering simple pleasures. Mostly chocolate and cigarettes. Ramadan's looking more and more like a much needed speed bump for me this year. My sympathies to alcoholics and sex addicts. I've written a song. Okay mainly rearranged old bits and pieces into a song. But it seems whole and I'm proud of it and I'm trying to befriend the new Fender. I'm restless. Internally. Externally I've melded to my fan and keep finding my phone in strange places (last time it was the laundry). It's the meteorological equivalent of a gorilla's armpit outside. It's making me goofy. I'm having recurring nightmares of a serial killer who's deathly allergic to caffeine. I tried to cover him with chocolate syrup in my last escape attempt. I'm trying to embrace it all but it's very prickly. And all who are desirous of my jelly can not or will not handle it. I'm going to go suck on something sugary and frozen now. |