16 or lack thereof in Normal entries

Today would have been my sixteenth wedding anniversary, as the crow flies, and, presupposing a lack of a divorce two years ago. There’s a lot of any story not told if you take it as the crow flies. Sometimes, though it’s the only way to travel.

Fifteen years and eleven months ago I wrote a song about it, the marriage, sort of, not the crow. I don’t really think crows are very interesting, but, say, as the emu flies would be a different expression altogether. If I typed as the emu hitchhikes the meaning would be lost for the strangeness and unfamiliarity of the expression, it’s big among the ostriches but PB is suspiciously short on ostriches. Species-ism? Maybe it’s just me the Ostriches are avoiding.

Emu’s think Ostriches are boorish, or so I’ve led to understand.

That song I wrote wasn’t very good. I know enough music theory to write a melody line and enough English to write lyrics, but I can’t do them at the same time. I wrote the lyrics. My bride of well less than sixteen years wrote the music. It wasn’t very good.

I have written worse songs, chief among the worse was one with this chorus;

If you have to ask
The answer’s always yes
And he died from the funk inside his drawers.

Yes, the funk inside his drawers was to diminish the song which was self-diminishing anyways, but, the first two lines speak to a fundamental thing between people when they are trying to communicate. Most questions answer themselves in the mere asking. Of course not things like “Is this the way to Waterfront park?” more like the banal question “Do these jeans make my ass look fat?” I don’t mean to say that those jeans make your ass look fat, I mean to say that’s a loaded question that you have a strong opinion on that has nothing to do with the jeans. Um, and might not have anything to do with your fat ass, and probably little to do with my answer or the question might be “How you like my fat ass?” Even so, if you have to ask …

I told a grown woman whom I am absolutely goofy for that today would have been my sixteenth anniversary. In hindsight I could have gone on forever without ever mentioning that. Not saying any damage was done at all, just saying the same amount of no damage would have not been done without mentioning it. I line up my negatives ok? If you have to ask … I lined em up close enough for emu’s I think. I have been completely honest with this grown woman, but, honestly, the date has nothing to do with nothing. It’s an emu rubix cube of honestly as in “who gives a flightless fuck?”

I don’t think any critter on this earth believes that a rubix cube is very interesting and some might even think it’s proof that it was a shitty idea to give the planet to the monkeys. Speaking for the monkeys, y’all didn’t give us shit; we took it. That’s how us monkeys roll, some of us even insist to the point of fighting about it that we are not monkeys; silly, silly monkeys.

So, that’s my lack of a story about my lack of a sixteenth wedding anniversary and I’m sticking to it. I know, I lost of you monkeys, and perhaps a stray emu, with ‘… funk inside his drawers’ and you’ve been checking out your own ass in the mirror. And you know what else …?