Old

Oh boy, I just did an old person fart. You know, that sad sound, where it's not forced out, nor has there been any attempt to hold it back. There's no real music to it. It's just there, like a grunt. And whenever I hear an old person make that sound, I look, and it's like he or she didn't even hear it, isn't even aware of it. And that's the saddest thing about that sound. There's no humor to it. It's like a little death.

Mistress Boobilicious Strikes Again

Mistress Boobilicious foils a jewelry robbery, then rapes a policeman. "All in a day's work," she tells this reporter modestly.

I Like Cheese

I like cheese. And I like wine. And I like to eat cheese while I'm drinking wine. But the only cheese I have at the moment is a bag of finely shredded sharp cheddar, which is great for bagels and in burritos and so on. But is rather awkward to eat while drinking a bottle of wine and watching a movie. I was grabbing handfuls from the bag and then trying to drop it into my mouth without getting it all over the place. I failed, of course. And now I'm drunk, having finished the wine (and the cheese, for that matter), and trying to remove all the little bits of finely shredded sharp cheddar from my bed. I will likely fail at that too. And in the morning I will wake with little bits of cheese stuck to me. Ah, something to look forward to. I need to go grocery shopping. Fuck, I need to go to bed. I probably shouldn't be posting blog entries while inebriated. But what the hell. I like cheese.

Lettuce Has Become Unreliable

Lettuce has become unreliable. This seems a recent development, but perhaps my memory is simply unclear on the subject, and all along lettuce has been trouble. But these days, for sure, lettuce is turning brown so quickly. Two days. I just checked the receipt, which is still on the counter. I bought the lettuce on the eighth, in the afternoon. And on the tenth, it had gone bad. Or at least it had gone brown. What is the cause? Lettuce was more reliable than this, wasn't it? Has it come under the influence of bananas lately? Or is something wrong with my refrigerator? The water seems the right temperature, so...

In a marginally related topic, when I was a child and forced to go to a church, every time the priest said, "Let us pray," I imagined the church full of heads of lettuce bowing and mumbling in prayer. This went on for years, and I was never able to shake the image. Finally I just had to leave Catholicism altogether. Things are fine now.

Shit

Recently I was told not to worry about a medical bill that I had received and could not pay. That was excellent news, and I so very much wanted to believe it. Today I received two more bills, for twice the amount of the original one. Trying to avoid panic, I decided to take a walk and return a few library books and mail the phone bill. The phone bill itself was also an issue, as the folks at AT&T had said they hadn't received my previous payment and so had tacked on a late charge. The late charge itself was more than 15% of the original bill. Clearly, AT&T is getting more and more greedy. But anyway, I called that company, and after some confusion the woman said they had in fact received my earlier payment, and that I didn't have to pay the late charge.  The theme here, of course, is that things that are supposedly taken care of often turn out not to be. And that leads to anxiety. I mean, when I do something, I want it done. I don't ever want to have to deal with it again.  I'm guessing I'll be hearing from AT&T again about that late charge. And who knows what the deal is regarding these medical bills? While I was walking home, trying not to think of these things, a man rode by me on a bicycle. As he passed me, I heard him breathing heavily, and then heard him say, "Shit." I wanted to thank him, I wanted to embrace him right then, because for that moment I felt totally connected to another person. We're all dealing with various shit, and that, if nothing else, connects us.