Ponders

ponder this


I haven't done a great deal of flying, or been on a huge number of airplanes in my life, but I've been on enough. I've flown into 5 different countries, as well as big airports such as O'Hare, Detroit Metro, JFK & Heathrow - so i have some "flying cred" as they say in the streets. Thing is, i've never once been afraid of crashing. Well, except for the one time that i actually did crash - but we were still on the runway, so that doesn't really count. Anyway, i like to eat my meal as quickly as i possibly can & then have the stewardess take the tray away immediately, because what i do have is an intense fear of spilling food on myself at high altitudes.



So, i was drinking the other night & i put a little vodka on my finger & let my dog, Day-Z, lick it. You might think that she'd be inquisitive, or maybe even excited. All she did was taste it, give me the tilt-head look, & then say to me, "What are you trying to do, get me drunk?"



There's nothing quite like a quick-slap of Blue alcohol on a freshly-shaven neck.
WUK-KSH!



Last night my wife was watching Anne Of Green Gables in the bedroom while i was zonking out in bed. I was about half asleep; half awake - enough so that i could hear the TV, but not really know what was going on. I heard some of the most fucked up dialogue - EVER. It was so fucked up it made my right butt-cheek slap my left calf, which in turn set off a chain-reaction/domino effect that has resulted in a war between the left & right sides of my body that has been raging ever since.



I keep having this dream that i'm back in elementary school. I'm walking down the hall and i'm itching my butt. I mean, a full-fledged diggeroo. Fingernail insertion, at least. The thing is, though, i just cannot help but smell my finger afterwards. What does this mean?



I think a New Year's Eve party should be called the End-o-The Year Extravaganza-o-Fun. But then again, someone dropped a pate on my head earlier today, so i'm not really sure what's going on.



Quick Update:
I've convinced my right knee and my left elbow to talk with an impartial arbitrator about ending this war between the left & right sides of my body. They've been talking with my cat, Eli R. Duke, for the past week, but i'm not sure if they're close to signing a peace treaty. I have a sneaking suspicion that the cat thinks this is all some big joke.








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