Think Fast
OK now why is your skull dented and seeping? Yes I threw an OJ carton but more to the point is a vigilance lesson. Murphy’s Razor tells us that things went wrong because you didn’t expect for them to. Trust is the fabled dog that sniffed the blender. Let’s muzzle that blender. Your Mom’s a heavy sleeper, but the opposable rule is one vigilante per bed so our room’s covered. And better it’s me from my standpoint. Statistics are statistics and murder favors domestics, like Occam and the apple: What goes up must go wrong. Best just to keep these things in the back of your head, and the back of your head on speed dial. To lock the grenades in one closet and the pins in another, so to speak. Let me get you something for that, son. Son? If you can hear me, count backwards from the voice I like. The soft one.
Everything I Know About Music
If you’re improvising and you hit the wrong note, hit it again a few times. Own the note, shine your brights on it, let everyone know you are up to something. The Law of Facial Control holds that 90% of the audience is evaluating your performance with the wrong organs anyway. Dilute and mask, not for your comfort but for theirs. Everybody wants to be lied to sometimes, which is to say, cared for. Other times, well. My lover: If I smile naturally, suspect I’m up to something. My friends: If I ever kiss all of you, you’ll know I’ve just made a terrible mistake.
Concocting as to the Present of Outfromers in the Habitat Beyond
I say to you yes and surely. If the parking lot’s specious, Tad Gunnick once spat, folks’re gonna neck and do donuts. Or to coin it in your terms, budder: You got the booze, you’re gonna cruise. But then I think of what if beyonder folks are just real OK with how things are and don’t suspect of me and wouldn’t care if they did. That tears up my gut. Contingent, worst case happens we send up some us off far into the open lot and each slog our soils for ages, break contract, all get weird, us and them, screw something up, think just of today, each turn the color of what we eat, forget, rethink, rebuff, rebuild, then bring the other us on back home and whistle over accents, maybe war awhile, breed. What a kick! But we hope instead for the real deal, meaning what I said only longer ago, before our cells got divorcing. Nightly I twirl to entice in case. Quarterly I put up a sign on the roof: The Parking is Amber and Free on Weekends. And the literals come to neck and prove my point.
This is To Be a Safe Place
So tune your faces at home before. We begin by going around the room fascinating each other with our words. It takes courage. Courage is respectable. Respect is laudable. Laud. Have mercy. If someone says a something, you must wear the rapt expression we practiced. If the something is racist, you must applaud. If the something is a dog, you must pet it. If you make the mistake of looking at your watch, say, “Oh good, plenty more time,” as an apology. The rule is, three plenty-more-time’s from any one participant. After that, you must take care to support the participant’s head when feeding her to the ravine, and if you wish, take a moment to appreciate the still brisk air and the way the moonlight reflects off the backs of the coy loglike crocodiles. All those millennia nipping at dinosaur tails and still ticking, evil maybe but never bored.
