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Random Thoughts
I was a bit slap-happy before the con last week... I'd realised that carrying something close to 400 dollars around was a bad idea. Especially if it was, say, in my pocket. So I devised the simple solution of stuffing it into a small change purse, and setting the change purse inside my bra. It wasn't noticeable, and it fit neatly, so it worked.
At one point, I went into the public library, and had an almost irresistable urge to go up and pay my fines... And reach into my shirt to get my cash.
*snicker* I believe my mental words were something to the effect of, "with my cash in my bra--I could really startle some librarian."
Also, as I was eating lunch in Fazoli's, I was reminded of the night before, when I was watching HBO's Real Sex. There was a lady doing a fellatio workshop... I'll never look at breadsticks in quite the same way ever again.
On to Gateway. I don't know if I mentioned this before or not, but...
I was watching people on Saturday--as is my normal wont--and realised something as Laurell Hamilton stalked down the hall towards the area I was in. Colour her hair brown, add glasses, and Laurell is an uncanny dead ringer for Frito. Maybe it's the attitude. Sort of a take no prisoners, don't screw with me thing. I also think it would be scary to have Tappy and Laurell and Frito in the same room.
On a more irritated note, I noticed a lot of the normal political crap going on at Gateway... So, in their honour, I wrote a poem. You will notice (as I have) that I've begun to write song lyrics. All I need is a guitar, and I can feel all folksy.
Populated halls
Empty so quick
Bickering politicians
Political shit
Creating a vacuum
Venial and trite
Cons without people
World without life
(*snicker*, yes, no life)
It's boring, you bastards
Dull and slow
The cause of this deadness
Internal strife
Hrm. Needs work...
Also.
There is no solution
to political strife
except being
intelligent
and acting
kind
Anyway. Was thinking about Douglas Adams the other night at work. Am Thinking seriously about filking 'Candle in the Wind' in his honour.
Meanwhile...
And he is gone
the farer of stars
Gone to somewhere
Laughter will fill
Without us
Silence, still
No more to give
the Answer
Infinitely Probable
Death
--is but a door
And the Question
Never found
Despite years, centuries
wastelands
of Philosophy
Melancholy Happiness... Heh.
Anyway. seems to be all I've got, for now.
At one point, I went into the public library, and had an almost irresistable urge to go up and pay my fines... And reach into my shirt to get my cash.
*snicker* I believe my mental words were something to the effect of, "with my cash in my bra--I could really startle some librarian."
Also, as I was eating lunch in Fazoli's, I was reminded of the night before, when I was watching HBO's Real Sex. There was a lady doing a fellatio workshop... I'll never look at breadsticks in quite the same way ever again.
On to Gateway. I don't know if I mentioned this before or not, but...
I was watching people on Saturday--as is my normal wont--and realised something as Laurell Hamilton stalked down the hall towards the area I was in. Colour her hair brown, add glasses, and Laurell is an uncanny dead ringer for Frito. Maybe it's the attitude. Sort of a take no prisoners, don't screw with me thing. I also think it would be scary to have Tappy and Laurell and Frito in the same room.
On a more irritated note, I noticed a lot of the normal political crap going on at Gateway... So, in their honour, I wrote a poem. You will notice (as I have) that I've begun to write song lyrics. All I need is a guitar, and I can feel all folksy.
Populated halls
Empty so quick
Bickering politicians
Political shit
Creating a vacuum
Venial and trite
Cons without people
World without life
(*snicker*, yes, no life)
It's boring, you bastards
Dull and slow
The cause of this deadness
Internal strife
Hrm. Needs work...
Also.
There is no solution
to political strife
except being
intelligent
and acting
kind
Anyway. Was thinking about Douglas Adams the other night at work. Am Thinking seriously about filking 'Candle in the Wind' in his honour.
Meanwhile...
And he is gone
the farer of stars
Gone to somewhere
Laughter will fill
Without us
Silence, still
No more to give
the Answer
Infinitely Probable
Death
--is but a door
And the Question
Never found
Despite years, centuries
wastelands
of Philosophy
Melancholy Happiness... Heh.
Anyway. seems to be all I've got, for now.