Met a fore.

Stream of consciousness follows.

My new favourite simile (analogy), “Like a stapler in flight.” Incredibly graceful and deadly.

Every cellular service provider wants me to sign a two year contract. Two years is far too long. Anything more than a week is far too long. A year I can deal with. Anything longer than that makes me antsy.

Hotel beds have far too many pillows. I have six fucking pillows, two cushions and a long cylindrical cushion. I’m sure that there is a technical name for that and I’m now going to have to Google it.

Five minutes later, I’ve been defeated.

And then Mary and Wikipedia ride to the rescue. It is a bolster. I was under the impression that a bolster was more pillow-ish, but apparently it is not. The very foundation that supports my belief system has been rocked. I’m all shaken up. What other delusions have I been labouring under?

Are toasters not sentient?

Aren’t handcuffs and butter good for you?

Is it in fact, “Paint you own pottery” studio?

I dislike it when people use “U”, instead of “You”. “You” isn’t so hard to type. “Y” is next to the “U” and “O” is one key over. One happy neighbourhood of keys.

The “2” key on my keyboard is broken. I really need to pound on it to get it to register. And of course it had to be the “2” key. Twelve years ago, the number keys were all equal. Friends and comrades in a classless society. No longer. “2” because of its close association with “@” is now one of the neuve-riche. Like the boyhood friend of a politician, a politician who made it big. And now the boyhood friend shines in the reflected glory of the one who made it big. “2” and “@” could be a book or a movie. Something along the lines of the Godfather or Planet of the Apes or Mary Poppins.

My new favourite simile (analogy), “As sweet as a stapler.” Incredibly graceful and deadly.

Man, that sucked and I’m stone cold sober.

Sober-ish.