Proof That Changing A Light Bulb In Slow Motion Is Cool

Not a play list, or a list, but this is what plays on my playlist.

Twenty Four Hour Sushi Showdown

Sadly, this post is not about sushi. Or is it? Or rather, should it be? Perhaps all things should be about sushi. Especially after one has recently shoveled some of the best damn sushi down their mouth. That one being me.


Anyway. I started writing for the smew and something of mine should show up soon. I shall inform the world when it does.

I have nothing much else to report, not that this is a report, not that anyone is expecting a report, nor is it necessary to have a report.

Twenty Four Ounce Per Hour Per Pounce

Themes for today:
To-do lists.
One of my to-do lists has "write to-do list" on it. On a separate list is "write blog about to-do lists". Or, it will say this, so I can scratch it off. I might water my plants and then write "water plants" on the list in order to scratch it off. It's one of those temporal challenged to-do lists that is only created as things are done. Time and tense have no real meaning when it comes to to-done lists and the like.

I had a dream where I was trying to cross off items on such a list. I was mostly having a difficult time reading it. I can and have read things in my dreams, as well as reading and entering numbers. There have been several dream scenes where I am dialing and messing up every time. I concentrate and push the numbers carefully, but I keep getting it wrong. Before the frustration gets too severe, I realize that I might be dreaming, and the call is placed. Or, in most cases, the "text" is sent. When I wake up, I am at the edge of panic as I fear I must have been sleep-texting all night. But I wasn't. It hasn't happened yet where I am actually calling or texting someone in my sleep. Which is kind of disappointing.

I've had a dream about writing a to-do list. It was one of those dreams where I'm watching the scene instead of participating in it. I knew there were some really big and awesome things on that dream-to-do list, but I couldn't see them exactly. I knew some things were crossed off. Big things. Like Magna Carta big. But my head was in the way and I never did figure it out. Also disappointing. 
They tell me it's November. The grass is getting greener, so it must be.

More and Such and Some Etc.

"The Other Whale Tale"
Story time.

The Underwood Typewriter Sits Above Wood and Doesn't Type

There's a bloated ball near my brain, behind my nose, but not to the point where I can actually blow it out. I've used a roll of toilet paper to try. And a box of pseudo sudafed. (Which isn't that clever-- the "pseudo" part, as that's where sudafed actually gets its name. It's a pseudo version of ephedrine. Or is it?)

ADMIN WARNING: YOU ARE CLOSE TO YOUR ALLOTTED USE OF THE WORD "PSEUDO." PROCEED WITH CAUTION

So despite taking the fake version of the brand Sudafed-decongestant-ephedrine-wanna-be, I am still stuffed up somehow. It's the confusing stuffed up. Can't breathe that well through the nose, but also can no longer make "productive" piles of Kleenex (brand tissues.) When I put "productive" in quotes like that, it really does make it gross.

Anyway, the theme for this day: I don't really, exactly, know how "toilet water" used to be used in a sentence. How it should be used, or was used, I'm sure it has something to do with the French... but whatever its originally meaning, regardless if it used to mean perfume, or something to do with cologne-- it makes me laugh when I hear it used. Stop using it. C'mon people. Unless you mean the water in the actual toilet.

Commence Comment Commitment

Theme for the day: one of those everyday themes that I will say is a daily theme just about every day.

Every get to that point where the coffee at home becomes too much like home-coffee? And it becomes necessary to get other coffee elsewheres? Away coffee. (Really I just like to talk, think, write about coffee.)
When home-coffee is too chalky, and you start coughing all colicky, and then you crave a cup crafted from the other side of town, when the home-coffee is crappy, your mind is cluttered, but crafty, that's when Away-coffee must be found.

If you google Gogol with goggles...

Most of my plants are mostly alive. That is to say, they are not dead, but they certainly don't look happy. Well, one looks happy. That's the one I water. I water it because it looks happy. I know this sort of thinking, this illogical loop, is backwards, but if there is such a thing as a backwards logical loop, I'd like to think about it. Because then maybe I could go back in time and water all my plants.