Perhaps I will have a black wife. We will have a female child. We shall name her 'Zebra.'

She'd always come last in roll call.

"Zebra Wohlford?"
"It's pronounced 'Zeh-bra.' Like Debra with a Z. Which is to say, 'present.'"

What a racist fucking teacher, "Zebra."

Tragedy. Serendipity! Irony?! I'm either too old or too young for this shit.

LOL.

Our legs were unduly proximate. She kissed my neck in the middle of everyone and nobody noticed.

But the other one was there too! She grabbed my ass. Mentioned something about dinner on Sunday. I assure you I'll be breathing at will in the meantime. 

God damn that girl over there is intriguing. Look how sassy she is! I should buy her a drink from across the bar. No, fuck it! Do it anonymously. The silent hero. HA! But that's her boyfriend.

So I just bought a shot for the three of us.
"Wow, that's a hell of an introduction," he says as he shakes my hand. 
No toast? So uncivilized.
Well, I was thinking "to justice!" so fuck it.

We stood in the parking lot for far too long before she won. And her creaky fucking floors! God damn.

"Oui," she says. 

"I think I'm going to go. Fuck, I don't want to go. I have to go. I should go."
"The guacamole tastes great," she says.
"What!? Why are you talking about guacamole?! You're asleep."
"I think I'm dreaming right now," she says.
"I'm going."
"Huh? No! You can't go," she says as she falls asleep.

It is considerably more awkward to get dressed on that creaky fucking floor than it was to undress the both of us on that ocean of a bed. 

I wish you would stop apologizing. Well, no. I wish you would stop feeling like you ought to apologize. If for another reason, feel free to apologize until you're blue in the face, I suppose.

HEY! I fucking understand! Can't you tell?! But fuck it: I understand him, as well. How fucked. 

"Why didn't this ever happen when we were freshmen?"
"We were young and stupid. And immature," she says. 
Different perspectives, word. Why didn't I realize.
I missed out on the best of you. No, sorry, not you.
"What's so funny," she says as she falls asleep.

The Old Well is beautiful at this time of day. And hot damn, Budweiser tastes way better than Bud Light. I'll take a double Jack on the rocks. Is that girl restocking the DTH dispensers? Fuck. What time is it?

And on we plow towards the 25th. It'll be significant enough, I suppose. But a far cry. HA! Shit comes full-circle.

"If I had met you 2 years later -- or fuck it, 10 years later -- would we be together?"
"Yes," she says.
I missed out on the best of you.
"What's so funny," she says as she falls asleep.

I skip through the empty streets. I cut through campus. It's late as fuck. A bit of booze in my blood and a bud in each ear. 

And I just fucking laugh.

One of my life goals is to urinate off a cliff so high up that the full contents of my bladder are in mid-air at the same time. I'll pick a nice, calm day to minimize wind damage to the stream. I want a clear, pristine string of fluid hanging there. And I want it on film from a side-view.


Sometimes I approach doors that I need to enter. From time to time those doors are already partially open, but slowly closing as I approach. When grabbing the doors to blast them open (so that I might transport myself through them), I never grab the door itself if it is almost closed. EVEN IF I HAVE PLENTY OF TIME! I'm irrationally concerned with getting my fingers crushed. I use the knob.


Anyway.


Here is a great penis haiku!


Dude, you know what's up?
Got my economy pack.
Whoa, make it happen!

There are seven possible outcomes given two unequal initial positions with the possibility of either growth or decay over time:

1a. The higher remains constant, and the lower converges to it.
1b. The higher remains constant, and the lower diverges from it.

2a. The lower remains constant, and the higher converges to it.
2b. The lower remains constant, and the higher diverges from it.

3a. Neither remains constant, they converge.
3b. Neither remains constant, they diverge

4. They both remain constant and parallel.

Are any of these more often the case than the others?

If any of the (a) outcomes are prevalent, commitment-averseness is weakened.
If any of the (b) outcomes are prevalent, commitment-averseness is strengthened.
If outcome 4 is prevalent, commitment-averseness is necessary.

What can be done to increase the probability of the (a) outcomes obtaining?

For any x,

if x doesn't y z, then fuck x.


We shall see.

First, some meta:

I don’t like explicitly referring to things like love, romance, emotions, etc., so hereafter I’ll use a set of euphemisms. What’s something innocuous? Colors. An arsenal of colors will be necessary.

Also, I want this to be general and hypothetical. Further, to avoid any objections to heteronormativity from Sean, I want to avoid gender specificity. I’ll have to use a second level of euphemisms. Fruit will be great.

I hope you follow:

How unlikely is it for: a) Honeydew to be simultaneously bright red, deep purple, and delicate pink towards Kiwi;

AND

b) For Kiwi to be those same colors towards Honeydew;

AND

c) For a) and b) to occur simultaneously.

I will title the event of a), b), and c) jointly obtaining (or really just of c) obtaining, because it subsumes the others) “Radio Rainbow.”

Holy shit, a Melon would have to be embarrassingly light yellow to believe that Radio Rainbow would ever be the case. In fact, if a Melon were to actively seek or wait for Radio Rainbow, an Apple could justly label a Melon (Now I’ve sacrificed grammar to prevent heteronormativity. How do you feel about that, Sean?) as barely sky blue or even borderline mentally lime green.

And yet, a Melon would be something far worse than light yellow or lime green if a Melon (and again) did not constantly look for that Radio Rainbow. A Melon would be indigo or Duke blue (which is really just past tense for Duke blows).

In the process of scheming for that Radio Rainbow, a Melon may seem, to some fruits, electric pink or obnoxiously orange. Fuck those Grapes. If the probability of Radio Rainbow is so absurdly low, a Melon has to eat a lot of Figs (fruit?) and Tomatoes (also, fruit?) to have any reasonable chance of tuning in.

There’s a tree in my yard. I have a big fucking yard, so trees aren’t hard to come by.

“What do you want me to do with this tree? It’s grown awfully close to the house.”
“Is it sturdy? Suitable for a tree house? That would be marvelous.”
“No, it’s sort of weak.”
“Then hang a swing from its branches and we’ll use it in the Spring.”
“Nope, none of its branches are big enough.”
“Does it offer good shade?”
“Not really. You know, it’s really pretty bare.”
“Does it bear fruit?!”
“No it does not.”
“What a shitty tree! What is it, a palm tree?! No matter, I can still use it. Cut that tree down. Chop it up. Firewood. I’ll not have a worthless tree in my yard.”

Utility. That’s the bottom line. You can’t fuck around with trees. There’re too many of them. And you never know when they’re going to send roots and chutes and such into the foundation of your house or garden. Very destructive.

It’s not hard to find a shitty tree: no platforms for tree houses, branches too flimsy to support a swing, offering little shade and even less fruit. Very often they are palm trees.

But useless trees aren’t always destined to become firewood. Sometimes you’re just fond of a tree. You sort of like the way it looks in your yard so you keep it around. Weeping willows. Weak and useless, but gorgeous.

And we can’t forget the live oak with Spanish moss. Both useful and sexy.

These are the only two options. And don’t even get me started about droughts and locusts. They destroy the shitty trees and the good ones, regardless. Fuckers.

“Anyway, cut that tree down. Chop it up. I thought it was a weeping willow. False alarm. Fucking palm trees!”

From the NY Times:

Causes of Death Are Linked to a Person’s Weight

"About two years ago, a group of federal researchers reported that overweight people have a lower death rate than people who are normal weight, underweight or obese. Now, investigating further, they found out which diseases are more likely to lead to death in each weight group.

Linking, for the first time, causes of death to specific weights, they report that overweight people have a lower death rate because they are much less likely to die from a grab bag of diseases that includes Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s, infections and lung disease. And that lower risk is not counteracted by increased risks of dying from any other disease, including cancer, diabetes or heart disease."

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/11/07/health/07fat.html?_r=1&hp&oref=slogin


I AM FUCKED

.

Sick. Limited capital invested wisely.

Here's the bottom line. I like you a lot and I want you in my life--exclusively. I'm sorry I was a dick, but in light of what you said earlier and what was running through my veins, can you blame me?

You lied to me. And then you lied about lying to me. But I don't fucking care. I can forget it all and never bring it up again if only you will say that you want it too.

Here's the bottom line. Be mine (and only mine) and I'll be yours (and only yours).

But FUCK. You're not down. You negate. And now I drink--for the fourth day in a row. Escapism? Fucking yes it is. Weak? Maybe. But fuck it.

You've got me just fucking it (immoral for you). It's my new hit single.