Saturday morning, headed to breakfast. Tooling down the road in the right lane, taking it easy with radar cruise on, passing a bunch of pickups towing empty trailers in the left lane. Grey GMC SUV was obviously getting frustrated and passed one of them using the suicide lane – almost living up to the name while swerving in to my immediate left yet still stuck behind another in the same apparent caravan. Truckavan? Nah. My passenger said “Whoa!” I, while gesturing at the model of Yukon on the side replied: “They think they’re going to get ahead of these trucks before the light, but they’re in Denali.” I apologize, and you’re welcome.
Truckaflatbed? Hell no, that’s worse, almost obscenely specific. What is the collective noun here? A clot sounds aggressively judgy. A queue implies less motion than there was.
but I suspect it’ll work just fine with roma tomatoes too
…when we should start referring to the number 10 as “a metric dozen.”
Obviously, that makes 8 a binary dozen, right? Or do we round that one up to 16?
was the qwerty keyboard designed to make typing the word awkward awkward?
was craft services for the film Jaws focused on charcuterie?
Finally found the proper neologism for my Hawaiian shirt and cowboy hat style:
Y’alloha
…in the fact that the words “sturdy” and “custardy” are antonyms
… to cultivate a cult with the culture of the occult
Even after voting for a constable today, I still maintain the only proper definition is “a variable that doesn’t ever change”
I am SHOCKED that google returns nothing for this search. Literally unbelievable that in the course of human civilization (yes, yes, such as it is) this word has not been created, to describe two snakes eating each other’s tails, in an infinity symbol.
If anyone wants to make me an animation showing that, I’ll pay for it.
Wasted synapses
Scratched like a stuck record on
Old mendacity
One hand clasped futilely to a wrist
As the familiar below fades
Into the icy deep black of aging memory
Let go, turn back from the dark
The journey has only begun, but already
I dream of breaking the surace, breath deep the salt
To watch a decade of fury set behind
The briny waves which push the tears back in as
I continue to exist
This is what I get to do
Who sets the boundaries where the land meets the ocean?
Is it the water, saying
Cross this line and you will get wet
Or is it the sand, containing and crying
Higher then this and you’ll evaporate
Becoming part of that cycle
Elementary school science teachers know
You’ve forgotten about
Until reminded
By some stupid poem
Imagine if the sea and the sand decided to part ways
Who would get custody of the tourists
Fascinated, as are we all, by change
There’s no solution where the land would move inland
The water would need to become all cloud and vapor
Calamity we’ve already begun
As economics twists the knife
Already in our own backs
The idea of killing too alluring to ignore
Even if it is ourselves
Investigate the concept of touching
Taken to it’s logical conclusion
Electron shells repelling like charges
And now the air wearies of carrying the burden of the water
Is there gloom if there’s nobody to feel?
Watch as the light from billions of years away
Stops
Captured by your cornea
Isn’t this nice, you say, watching the stars over the waves
But we’re no longer there
As if we never were
The bringing of the time and the taking of the time
Each distant orb a mirror of us all
As we reflect
On how each light will burn out
One by one
As they reflect
The blink of an eye
Trapped between two eternities
Of silence
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