Apr 28

Apr 28 I had noise for breakfast with a side of plaid. How ’bout you?

This post is not about intermittent fasting although I am considering giving it a whirl between 10 at night and six in the morning starting tomorrow, which according to the latest conspiracy theory, might actually come

I am sporting nail polish for the first time in my life which makes everything weird and magic mushroom-y if you know what I mean because my hands are fucking fascinating all of a sudden.

I am also doing other uncharacteristically nurturing things like looking words up in the dictionary and over-bonding with the fish – especially Tom – but I still very much enjoy the delicious complexity of words like holyfuckingshit and motherfucker and also beer, artisan mostly.

Oh Jesus. Am I a dichotomy?

Put that in a crossword and choke on it motherfuckers. And then visit zoomerradio.ca and download a puzzle a couple of hundred times if you got nothing better to do and by the looks of you, you don’t.

On the other hand, also nailpolishy btw, I am going to be baking today. Two cakes so when I deliver one to my daughter and blow her a kiss through the window we can eat ours here at the same time she eats hers there and we will feel extra connected and that’s just the way shit goes right now so I’m not getting all angsty about it because we can facetime sing to her and she can facetime blow out her invisible candles. Nor am I getting angsty that she is turning 30 and I hope she isn’t either because those numbers aren’t anything other than celebratory and each time you get a new one it’s like you’ve hit the jackpot again.

I can’t take these people who think the number of years they’ve been alive is shameful. Not me, baby, I’m a show off the other way

Also I am over-bonding with Daisy and Lily and Blazer and a little bit with the plants, mostly the indoor ones, and trying not to get too weird about plant propagation but it might be too late for that and if any of you know how to macrame, a couple of dozen hanging plant contraptions would be appreciated because I am fresh out of surfaces.

Also I am getting uncomfortably attached to inanimate objects including my Snoopy mug (don’t you fucking dare) and Captain Crunch without the contraction and if any spiders are reading this over my shoulder this might be a good time to get over our mutual dislike.

Still haven’t baked bread although I feel it coming on and am aware when I pass the yeast in the supermarket isle. I think it’s trying to catch my eye if you know what I mean and if the world bursts into animation like I suspect it will, that yeast is going to double in size and run into my cart. I just fucking know it.

Maybe I’m not getting enough sleep

Daisy sure is but I know she’s faking it half the time so she won’t have to go on all the walks. She’s coping okay with everything I guess but sometimes she wishes we’d all just fuck slightly off. This I know because I can read her mind. And on a unrelated topic did you know that old poo tastes like chicken?

Did I mention I forget to sleep some nights?

Just read that Margaret Trudeau is in the hospital after a fire broke out in her Montreal apartment building. She inhaled. I love her. I like the hippie beads and the flower power vibe she still flaunts. But more than that I love her for what she said about her son Michel who died, and I quote this loosely: He’s the only one of my children I don’t worry about.