Sunday, November 5, 2006


Just taking it easy, over the weekend. Generally don't bother to make a distinction, but my body ... my beautiful body was telling me to take the day off. So I only ran a mile, just to loosen up a bit. Man, how come it hurts so much to wake up? When did I get old? And I did a little maintenance workout on my one-armed chin-up -- place holder, just to stay hard ... for my beautiful body to stay hard. And I've been idling away some time responding to the comments of some fella on some website. Not substantive enough to work into anything for my own blog ... my own wonderful blog -- Forgotten Prophets™ ... maybe you've heard of it? It's quite brilliant, you know. I'm wonderful.

Oh, and I'm eating potato chips. I do that two or three times a year. I figure I need the salt. I know. I'm bad. But I'm good, too. Mostly. You know what I mean. ... What. ... Hey, what do you think I am, a eunuch? I've got hormones like I'm 17. If only there were no God, so I could do whatever I please. No God, and no diseases. That's what keeps me in line. Mostly.

And I've been getting enough sleep. Comes bedtime, and I'm actually sleepy. For a week now. It's like mercy. It's like what happiness must be like. And I'm absolutely full of energy. Maybe I'm bipolar. You've heard my theory, right? That I'm marginally autistic? Like Yeats. It would explain so much. Anyways, yes, I do have something of substance to say.

[And here I talk about Hariba.]

So that's something, right? Now I'll take it easy again. Maybe I'll go out and buy some cookies. Maybe I'll dig up an old phone number. You know what I mean. God won't mind, will he? Cuz it's like I'm 17.


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