Just because it’s Carly, and I knew her before she became a high-traffic light in the sky, I’ll come up with 19 things to say, assign them numbers, enlist my doubly-blind list-maker’s aid in re-sequencing them according to random beta-decay, and post them for some odd reason. Nineteen’s a Prime, by the way; that’s what convinced me.
1) I love words. Love playing with them. But I rarely use my dick-shun-airy during the process. Feels too much like Websterbation.
2) I like to just think of a word, write it down like you’d park a RACECAR in the driveway, oogle it from the front, from the back.. Hmm.. which end has the engine?
3) Somebody gave me a jar of de-cafeinated coffee. I don’t drink the stuff. Like coffee but with a condom. Anyway, I took it to work, put it on a shelf. Eddie was busy working on a sketch of some project. I said ‘Hi’ and left for ten minutes to grab a sandwich, came back and found the jar with a mustache penned-in on ‘Madamme DeCaffe’, whatever, the girl on the logo. Eddie was gone, Only a note, said :
“Tried to DRAW, DEFACED DE-CAF, EDWARD.” I think I’ll keep him.
4) I was real psyched up for a concert this Friday, some aviation buddies of mine from the Canandaigua (NY) EAA chapter put together a CD, not bad actually, but I sure hope they fly better than they sing. Anyway, I just read that they won’t be like.. singing singing. A little gossip item I just saw: “CNY’S PILOTS TO LIP-SYNC”. I might still go though. I owe the drummer a new altimeter.
5) The last two items I just made up. You probably guesed ….’from whole cloth’ as we say. What, you don’t say that? See, that’s the difference between you and me. I say stuff you don’t and vice versa, LOL
6) It rained here last night for ten minutes. The first shower of the season. We haven’t had a drop since like, March. You can store stuff out on the lawn for nine months in Israel and it won’t get wet. Stolen maybe.
7) The announcer is screaming in my cans “Talk about yourself, bozo. Meteorology they can Google!”. Ok ok. It just feels so.. so vain, so narsuistic…
8) Dinner tonight was four eggs, probably not from the same chicken, they don’t live that long. and tuna with Grilled Eggplant in T’china salad spread over the whole thing. That stuff could make the sole of your shoe taste good. Which is what I might have tomorrow, if they don’t pay me soon at work.
9) I was scheduled to sneak into Cuba in ’68 to help with the sugar-cane harvest. Got through all the interrogation, was sitting in a safe house in Bayone when I decided sugar’s bad for my teeth so I didn’t go. I was right.
10) This is only number ten? Feels like fifteen to me. Probably to you too, dear reader. I hate building octagonal houses. You finish five or six sides and say the hell with it, take it off the bill.
11) Overheard somebody say “Ga’dol ca’zeh” yesterday and I couldn’t understand why it tasted like an ‘L’ word. Realized it’s the rhythm, ‘di-dah-di-dit’. That’s an ‘L’ in Morse, even in my sleep.
12) I’m as confused as anyone, I guess, whether I post here for myself or for others. I try to catch myself if I start caring too much. –Add Comments– ugh; just reading that in print can ruin my day. But then I love to see a post from somebody else with a virgin comment box. Figure they’ll be especially happy to see someone read their creation.
13) I just realized that..um..maybe there aren’t nineteen things worth saying about me. Sad, ain’t it?
14) Found out why my tomatoes, eggplants, brocoli, and lettuce all died within a week of setting-out in Pennsylvania. I was under a black walnut tree; they release a toxin from their roots. And I thought it was all my fault. Yippie, sort of
15) Raccoons ate my airplane. They go nuts on the taste of butyrate dope. All that’s left is the aluminum airframe and a couple pieces of spruce in the ribs. Temporarily grounded, she is.
16) I am so sick of watching my two male half-grown kittens ‘nursing’ on each others functionless tits. Their mother was murdered by an Israeli when they were six weeks old. Still, it just looks.. perverted.
17) I have 78 Hard drives in a box. Take-outs, toss-aways. Each one is full of somebody’s life story. He should have thought of that when he threw it on the sidewalk.
18) I keep trying to take a new picture of my dumb face for a profile pix, but it always comes out looking like a guy peering at a camera lens, worriedly searching for fly-specks. Or like a ‘foto-ret’sak’, we call it in hebrew; “murder photo“. I’m innocent, but you’d never know it from the mug-shot.
19) That’s all, folks. I’m 6’0, 180 pounds, scar on my left leg where a cow gored me when I was four… what else do you need to know?