I've been packing boxes. Not as much as I should - but enough to realize I'm gonna need more boxes.
I've been coming across plenty of items that I've had to think twice about whether or not to hold fast or jettison over the side of the ship to sound to their watery graves...I'm all the more hesitant as the wake behind me is currently little more than a few scant inches from the shore. Letting go now would mean watching the ripples from splashdown overtake the trail of progress and bring about a bout of melancholic seasickness from the ensuing rocking.
Anything I've had to think twice about has been put into a pile at the tail end of the craft. It's like urban sprawl - only - well - it's dining room sprawl.
Mostly these items are just staring back at me now - begging, pleading, not to be thrown overboard. I mean -- it's much too difficult to part with some of them - as each has a story -- and perhaps that's what I'll do to keep fresh items sprouting up here before your eyes -- take a snapshot -- tell a story...
Many of these items will be easily recognizable by my brother --- who is welcome to share in his experiences. Undoubtedly, the same goes for my see-store - who if she would just give a damn could tell a story as well. The same goes for many of my remaining friends. So what fun can there be in snapshots? Well. I'll have to trick them out a bit -- give you a view through the periscope, and after a click or two -- unveil the entire object.
As it is already quite late and I don't much feel like pushing a story out that isn't ready (it's never a good idea to push things out if they aren't willing, that's how accidents and injuries happen -- just ask Star, or the Dooce), I think I'll start this little series off by posting the pic first -- letting y'all eye it over for a while as the creative juices build in my head, thereby constructing a more salubrious environment for revelation. Have a look at it - wonder - and then click on for the complete object. The story will follow on the next calendar date -- along with the ensuing object of mystery. So without further ado:
Kevin YEZBICK! Don't you DARE throw away my brain. My FATHER gave that brain to me, you take it up to Michigan and post it over my bed where it belongs! OR plop it in a box and send it to the AK , who knows, I might be able to use it up here.
oh my sweet brain....how i long to finger your folds again!
My guess...your former Deli owner's intestines
I know! I know! I know! But I won't ruin the fun for everyone else.
On another note, what exactly did I try to push out before it was time???
And on yet another(and final)note, I am bummed that your leaving Kevin! I just heard through the grapevine this weekend. When is your departure date?
Star -- that was a reference to poop. In the wide world of the interweb, the Dooce is well known to have a problem with constipation, and, well, when I think of you I think of all things poop -- in a very loving way...
I'm moving out of the house at the end of the month, but I'll probably be squatting (not a euphemism for poop, though the coincidence is grand)for a few days at either my aunt's or Kristen and Coleman's. I need to stay for the fourth of july bonanza over at Murphy's. The band is playing, y'know...a gig.
And for the record -- I don't think my former Deli owner had any guts to rip out.
Flip it over, maybe it's a yezbick.