aug 27 in idea barrages

The 1950s horror B-movie about my life would be called THE BRAIN THAT WOULDN’T SLEEP.

I had the dream again, where I led a coup at Saturday Night Live to actually try to be funny instead of just “being happy to be part of the tradition” or “seeing it as a stepping stone to larger success”. I think I have it twice a year.

If there’s Christmas in July, could we have Halloween in April? Carve watermelons, give out clearanced Easter candy, etc.

If you get food poisoning from improperly handled ghost peppers, is that a sick burn?

My version of mandala art is every week I buy 10 bucks in lotto, store up my hope of deus ex machina to replace all my problems with other problems in them, then every 4 months check them, see I’ve lost again and my stupid hopes go with them, leaving me to accept my life as my own again.

I am, of course, offended by the word “thot” for its sexist origin as “that ho over there”. However, I’m also offended as a word person when someone is called “a thot” because, dammit, “that” is part of the phrase, it doesn’t need another article before it.

Ah, TWISTER, my VHS hunting nemesis, with its font that looks just enough like JERRY MAGUIRE to catch the corner of my eye but always disappoints me.

Maudlin writing so bad it hurts is melotraumatic.