God doesn't care.

Deborah was her name. She was made of cream. She was my secret dream. She worked at a company called BLEEM. Where she was a secretary.

She used to make coats. Her coats were the most fantastic coats. They didn't even exist, usually, or at the very best they tried really hard not to, which you have to admire. Sometimes they would have more buttons than buttonholes; other times, they would have more buttonholes than buttons. Sometimes, they would even secretly be hats. Whatever the case, everything would be misproportioned and crumbly. Somewhat like a cat.

That was when Deborah lied to me.

She told me that there was spaghetti. But that morning there was no spaghetti. Only blood.

And blood cannot be twirled around a fork. Not under Montana law.

So I had to leave. What else could I do?

But sometimes I think about mountains. Mountains are very large. Sometimes I sit at the bottom of mountains. And at these times I go, "Mountain, where is your wallet?" But the mountain does not run away. The mountain can afford a Segway.

I cannot even afford a decent sandwich. Not without clapping a lot, anyway.

The point is, I used to think it was so cool. And all that stuff was just like, whoa. But today, I know that there's not really that much you can do to get discount cigars on this Earth. You have to plead for them.

But that only makes Deborah laugh harder. She laughs like a goat takes steroids. And that is simply impolite.

When you think about table manners, do you remember your religious values? How are you supposed to use a fork without considering God? Perhaps God is the fork. He is also a lion and a puma. There are so many types of cats, and God is all of them. Even a fork.

Do not let Deborah teach you table manners. Read your Bible, instead. It is more delicious. I know this from my own experience.

Barack Obama used to be a fish, before he learned how to tie his tie properly. But sometimes he does it wrong, just for kicks.

Do not let Barack Obama teach you table manners. He will kick you. I know this from my own neck's bleary aunts.

I just crushed another television with my toe. It was rather painful, for the television. Hopefully, I will not run into any trouble. But that should not be a worry, since I am wearing such a costly watch.

I have been watching a lot of news lately. This is very difficult. News is like quantum mechanics. If you don't split the banana, it just doesn't work.

Quantum mechanics is not at all like table manners. Barack Obama can teach it to you, no problem.

But that will not save you. Not for long. And that is why we must not forget.

Rice

Dream.

Toes of Trepidation

I was on a plane the other day. It was pretty scared. When I got off the plane, I realized that it hadn't taken off yet. Well, that was no good. So I took off for it. What I took off is still a subject of perfunctory study.

When I was on the plane, I was asked by the stewardesses if I would like some tea. None of the stewardesses were bears, which was a little disconcerting, it being so high up. So I answered, "No thank you, I do not want any tea." That was, you see, my existential state. The problem is that I really did want tea, only I knew, from a scientific standpoint, that I didn't. These things can be ascertained, you know.

So I jumped. What else was I supposed to do?

On my way down, I began to pass clouds. After a while, though, they had run out, so I started to pass other things. I passed a dragon, a canoe, some small cakes, and a guy I could have sworn was a sandwich, if I could have sworn. Everyone was very friendly.

Looking back on these events in my later years, as I am wont to imagine that I am the type of person who occasionally happens to do that I am, it all seems very hazy to me, but also very wistful. Maybe this is because I did not clean my glasses, but I think it's more likely that I forgot to clean the world.

What sort of a rag do you use to clean the world? And does it come in pink? Can you buy it at a grocer's? Will he give you a discount? If so, would you like to do it for me? I could really use a discount, I suppose.

Maybe they have pink ones in Japan, but I don't think they sell them that way here. Or maybe it's all just a joke.

It wasn't very funny. And yet I can't stop laughing.

Could it be?

How could it not?

Yes it was. It was indeed. When it occurred, I noted it. And now I'm here to tell you all that it not only could, but did, and will again, and has already.

Face Mecca. Take two steps to the left. Twirl. Clap. Two steps back. Step to the right. Turn around. Swing your leg out. Clap.

Describe it to me.

I didn't take a nap today. It was ludicrously exhausting. I didn't dream that I was in a giant goldfish bowl, surrounded by manta rays. None of the manta rays had NASCAR logos tattooed onto them. That would have been tacky. Or so I have been told.

One of the manta rays didn't swim up to me. He asked me, "Where is the butter?"

I didn't reply, "I don't know. Did you check the fridge?"

He did not assure me that there were no fridges underwater.

A while later, a bear was not swimming up to me. I did not approach the bear calmly and ask, "Where is the butter?"

To which he did not reply, "Can't you read? No solicitors." And the bear did not go on her merry way.

Some day, I pray that I will find the butter. When that day comes, life will not be limited to butter. I will also read a great novel. This will be my endeavor. Until that day comes, however, I prey.

In other news, some things don't have any inherent symbolism. As Freud once said, "I think I'll have just one more and then call it a night."

Or was he?

Yes.  Yes he was.  

The Book of Revelations

From this day forward, this blog will be very religious.  We'll be sure to mention Jesus a lot and use the royal we.  Gaps between posts are not laziness, they are prayer breaks.  Yes, yes, yes.  And no.  No, to that one.  But also yes.  

I would like to offer you a psalm.  But I can't.  

Here is where I would write the psalm:  






It's very pretty.  It's too bad that no one will get to read it again.  

I would like to offer a palm.  But I can't.  

Here is where I would put the palm:  Everywhere.  

I considered eating a lot of food today, but instead I just did it.  Thinking only makes you feel so full.  Jesus can do the rest.  Jesus and food.  Food and Jesus.  

The more animals that I mention in this blog, the more points I score.  How many pants do you have?  Do you have as many as I do?  If so, how did you score them?  

Jesus was a cougar.