Out Of It
A co-worker pointed out today that I'm kind of out of it. Nothing could be further from the truth, of course, but to prove I'm not out of it:
What up with dissing pet rocks? I have a pet rock and I don't see how it's any different than worry beads. And those stupid cyber pets kids took to while they ignored their pet rocks - now that's idiotic. Turn off the computer and your pet ceases to exist. But your pet rock - it's right there needing dusting every day.
Kiss - those boots, all that make-up. C'mon. Get bent.
Did Skinny Minnie Miller ever get married to Killer Kowalski? Because that would be neato swell if she did.
Why can't I find powder blue eye-shadow to go with my hot pants? I mean, in a black light setting - amazing. The dudes go crazy for that look. And you can't have enough groovy dudes hangin' in your pad.
Okay... this entry was a suck-ass idea. But I'm doing one a day if it's suck-ass or not. Because that's what professionals do. No wait... that's what writers do - they write. And if you read the thank you at the beginning of Miriam Toews book "An Uncomplicated Kindness" her friend tells her - "Writers write". But add your own "out of it" comments. Because to expand on Miriam's friend "Writers Comment".
