Thursday, August 5, 2004

Don't you love the dove who flew away. His wings were made of yesterday.

When I posted in Tony's WiP on this post of his, the man subsequently told me "You're so strange lol."

Well, you tell me, is this, in fact, s t r a n g e?

"Actually, no, I'm not jealous. I guess I've never been too much of a material person, and a lunch box that's old really has no value to me. What does have value to me, though, is a person, and also music, and also poetry and writing. Those things have souls, and they have a temple known as a body which you can enter and feel something for and learn something from.

A rusty old lunchbox, on the other hand, I cannot go inside because it is too small, and it also doesn't have a soul, not even a sole! like a shoe would, and it doesn't have a temple rather known as a body, and it doesn't make me feel anything nor does it teach me anything. It's just a clunk of metal that sits there and you can hit people over the head and fuck them up with it. Or you can put lunch in it and randomly pull it out like some sneaky bastard and eat your sandwich or whatever. Or you could put condoms in it and randomly come up to people and ask them, "Would you like to have half my sandwich, bum? You look hungry?" and then you could pull out a condom and say, "Wrap that shit up. Wrap it up in plastic."

So no, I'm not jealous that you have a clunk of metal that's old as the dinosaurs on the earth or older than my time on this earth. What I do care about, though, is you listen to music and you're a great guy and you can teach me to love different types of music and give me interesting twists and satricial things.

But I am saddened that you aren't going to be getting a mood anymore. Now I won't know how to approach you on AIM anymore. It's going to be weird, because you're so versatile that just by saying "Hello" you might rape my couch."

I guess it is, and I guess that makes me strange. I'm still worried about him raping my couch though, festooning his hands on it and caressing it and doing wrong bad evil naughty gaudy things to it. What's there to say but people're strange?

And what does festoon mean, you ask? Well, here you are:

festoon

n 1: a curtain of fabric draped and bound at intervals to form graceful loops 2: an embellishment consisting of a decorative representation of a string of flowers suspended between two points; used on pottery or in architectural work 3: flower chains suspended in loops between points [syn: festoonery] v : decorate with strings of flowers; "The public buildings were festooned for the holiday

Don't ask me how Tony can do that with his hands. He just can. Tony's sort of a superman really. . .so he can do it. And his superpower's festooning. Which rocks my socks and is something I wish I had.

Anyway. Onto the point of this post.

Work was fine today. The amazing thing is, I actually got decent tips. It was only at the big tables though--those towering soaring wide large big loaded gargantuan colossal ones.

I got $20 and some cents today in tips.

My question to you all is, what should I spend it on? Give me good ideas. And make them selfish things to buy that I'd never want and I'd just send to you in the mail because that'd rock.

Also, another question. Yes yes, this is 20 questions, yes yes yes, and if I'm annoying then I'm annoying.

The question is, aren't I strange?

Question's rhetorical, by the way.

What what what? What, you don't know what a rhetorical question is? Well, to put it simply, it means you're not supposed to answer, dumbnut.
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