Have I mentioned the chiropractor recently? No? Hmmm, that's odd. I should have. I love him. The first time I ever went to a chiropractor (two years ago) it was so much fun to go and get Did-It-Hair without actually doing it. Now? Well, it's getting to the point where it's only fair that we actually do it, Did-It-Hair or no. I mean, I see him three times a week. That's a lot of commitment for no sex and bad hair!
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The other night, on my way home, I was on a train with a slightly tired-looking woman. No problem, really, so I started reading my book. Her friend, though, engaged my Barf-dar by rapidly cleaning out a big, plastic shopping bag, passing it to Ms. Sleepy and saying, "here, you can use this."
I shot out of my seat so quickly it was like I had been stabbed in the bum. I ran towards the furthest end of the car, frantically jabbed my earplugs into my ears and PRAYED that I could leave that car before anything happened in that shopping bag.
Luckily, I escaped, but (like a car wreck you can't ignore) I looked back between the cars and until the next stop, she had her head in the bag.
I dreamt of barf all night. (Bleck.)
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He's baaaaaaaaaaaaack!
Yes, that's right, Patchouli Man returned today. Thank God! I was just about to have an extra cup of coffee, but when I walked into the copier room/pantry, I was smacked in the face by a wall of Earthy Tree Smell! I retreated weakly to my office to nurse my wounds.
(I don't know which is worse -- the way he smells or how frequently our copier falls to bits.)
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Here's a cool link, courtesy of my friend Bill. (Thanks, Bill!)
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That's all.
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1 comment:
Hey! Belated thanks for the "Little Blue State ..." shout-out.
It was way funnier before Toot died.
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