I've been entirely too serious lately, Mcfall. The goofiness and bells in hair mood is apparently gone off elsewhere. And I don't like it.
You see, I feel like I have to be talking about something all the time. Or reading something meaningful. Or writing in full sentences as opposed to the fragments I am currently using. I feel like, and more intensely around some people more than others, I'm either smart or stupid and I hate feeling stupid. Which is ridiculous, because I'm anything but.
When did I equate serious with smart? I honestly can't tell you when I started playing roles in my everyday life, although I suspect it was La été de Douleur. No matter what the date of inception, I think it should stop now.
To this end, I think we should hang out when I come through the mountains. Or at least do lunch as some back wood hovel. Perhaps we should have some special kosher Appalachian pork products (mmm... pig )?
Hey, so I was telling some us stories earlier, and I know MY favorite, what's yours? I suspect it's either "that suit's a bit TIGHT, isn't it?" or the "why we can't be friends any more....dance..." story.
My favorite? Es gibt so viele!
ReplyDeleteBut I think we can both agree:
Chattanooga is better at midnight.....The Bell Witch Cave? Not so much.
And:
-BOBA(hhhhhhhhhhhhh)!
-The reading of--no, the EXPERIENCE of--HELL HATH NO FURY. Much to the horror of all other writers that night. (Kudos.)
-The Roll of Happiness.
-Skipping Hebrew class to go to Nashville.
-Skipping Hebrew class to go to Nashville--again.
-Shisha(hhhhhhhhhhh)!
-Skinny-dipping in Nags Head!(--OR DID WE?)
-ICE BEARS.
I LOL'd at all of these. way to go.
ReplyDeleteI'm still snickering about ice bears