True, my piercer/neighbor did warn me, but taking a shower has become a dangerous venture.
I can't tell you how many times I get snagged on the loofa pad and almost rip my nipples off. Ouchy Banannas.
The Gallery is progressing quite well. It'd be going better if I could get the other people involved to carry their load of the work. Like, oh, say, having the artist doing me the favor of emailing me a few pics of his work so I can send out the mailers. That'd be a helpful little detail.
But fuck it. I'm prepared to do it all if I have to.
There have been countless times when I've been so close to achieving something only to have it fall apart because I'm either stupid or self conscience enough to rely on other people.
Not this time. I'm literally getting too old for that shit.
But I get a little reprieve for the moment because at lunch today I got a fortune that told me to relax and go play.
Immediately after that I got a call from a compulsive liar friend of mine who wanted me to come out because it's his birthday. And it may or may not be. And that's a big deal because doctors may or may not have told him that he'd be dead by his birthday by the brain tumor that he may or may not have.
Which was all something I was warily amused by until I found out another friend of mine actually does have a brain tumor.
And this girl, she's like, 27 maybe. It's ironic because outwardly she appears genetically flawless. She's more attractive than any other girl I've ever met or seen. And anyone I find beautiful reminds me vaguely of her. But her mom is battling with breast cancer and she's got a brain tumor to contend with. Theirs is a bloodline rife with struggle. Genetically flawed but genetically flawless.
Now, watching a 45 year old man fake it for attention doesn't amuse me anymore.
But all the same, he's a good drinker and a good liar and a good time.
Which will be good because I think i just depressed myself.
I can't tell you how many times I get snagged on the loofa pad and almost rip my nipples off. Ouchy Banannas.
The Gallery is progressing quite well. It'd be going better if I could get the other people involved to carry their load of the work. Like, oh, say, having the artist doing me the favor of emailing me a few pics of his work so I can send out the mailers. That'd be a helpful little detail.
But fuck it. I'm prepared to do it all if I have to.
There have been countless times when I've been so close to achieving something only to have it fall apart because I'm either stupid or self conscience enough to rely on other people.
Not this time. I'm literally getting too old for that shit.
But I get a little reprieve for the moment because at lunch today I got a fortune that told me to relax and go play.
Immediately after that I got a call from a compulsive liar friend of mine who wanted me to come out because it's his birthday. And it may or may not be. And that's a big deal because doctors may or may not have told him that he'd be dead by his birthday by the brain tumor that he may or may not have.
Which was all something I was warily amused by until I found out another friend of mine actually does have a brain tumor.
And this girl, she's like, 27 maybe. It's ironic because outwardly she appears genetically flawless. She's more attractive than any other girl I've ever met or seen. And anyone I find beautiful reminds me vaguely of her. But her mom is battling with breast cancer and she's got a brain tumor to contend with. Theirs is a bloodline rife with struggle. Genetically flawed but genetically flawless.
Now, watching a 45 year old man fake it for attention doesn't amuse me anymore.
But all the same, he's a good drinker and a good liar and a good time.
Which will be good because I think i just depressed myself.
Cancer is such a baffling anomaly to me, but I think that is because I read deeply into what every aspect of our reality means on a metaphorical and spiritual level. I guess some would contend that there is just a lot of blind stupid luck out there and that there is no deeper meaning below the surface, but I don't buy it. I guess that's just the flaw (or as I like to think of it, strength) of being schooled analytically.