Tomorrow 50-something high school marching bands are going to surround my apartment building and starve me out. We're officially trapped here; all of the streets are shut down and any attempt to get anywhere would be fruitless. I expect Becky and I will go out and watch some of it just for the sheer weird-as-fuck factor. I'll also do some school work and, somewhere in there, drink.
The inevitable indian summer of central California has lent a surreal edge to my outlook. Every day, the skies are utterly blue and empty. I feel vaguely dehydrated no matter how much water I drink. My mind plays tricks on me. My paradigm shifts. Excorcists decline to take my case. It's like I'm unraveling a BIIIIG cableknit sweater that someone keeps knitting and knitting and knitting and knitting and knitting......
Name the movie that the latter image came from in the comments and get a free hi-five the next time I see you.
10.20.2006
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
3 comments:
PeeWee's movie. (is that who he spelled his "name"?)
and i know how you feel.
That is hilarious. You should be on Jon Stewart -- they did a story a few months ago on victims of walkathons ("Trapped...by the selfishness of Walk for the Cure!") where the guy did NOT take being trapped at home with the dose of humor you have. Drinking and marching bands go very well together anyway.
hey - I used to be in those crazy marching bands - I always hated my uniform though. I was the only one in a skirt.
Post a Comment