Clog Up Your Right Ventricle
I came up with a fuck-rock band called The Trim Army. They will march in unison to liberate trim from within the clutches of squareness. Does “square” still mean you’ve never kissed? In any case a square doesn’t get trim. More like, doesn’t understand it.
There’s a cold coming on and I can tell because in class tonight I had one of those windpipe itches. You know, when your throat hurts so bad with itch that you wish you could slide a ruler or a horsewhip into your esophagus to scratch that shit? And instead of coughing, I tried to hold it in, to assume a zenlike mien where my third eye was focused so intently on the itch that my conciousness would assume the itch’s form, and I could kill the itch with an application of pure reason. Like, check your premises, itch. But this shift in consciousness had the effect of intensifying the itch, probably through its defense mechanism—an itch is a living thing, BTW, independent of the host organism—and it released its inky discharge, nearly choking me. It felt like being jabbed in the throat with a pen from the inside. My eyes watered into tears and I left the room for about five minutes, wandering confusedly between the bathroom and water fountain in search of a cure, an answer, a kindred soul. That’s how I know a cold’s coming on.
OK I’m tired tonight. You write something. The end. P.S. I better start seeing some activity in my referrer logs from all the bitches out there. The end 2.
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(4 comments)
put the following in a tea pot with boiling water: chopped up ginger (about an inch), juice of one lemon, a good whack of honey, and ecinacea (sp?) if ya got it. drink it hot, and then cold, you can mix it with juice in the morning (but careful ginger is a diuretic, so drink water as well). repeat until cold is vanquished.
At what point do I add the rum?
right at the end otherwise all the alcohol will evapourate.
yrdys test