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Friday, April 08, 2005

Not Every Post Will Be a Good Post

Today as I walked home from the office I thought of nothing - nothing! "How incredibly zen," you are thinking, but it is not so. It was not zen. It was my fresh, grievous head injury. Did I say I was walking home from the office? No, not from the office! From the hospital. I was walking home from the hospital. I was resplendent in my shapeless dressing gown, with kleenex boxes on my feet and a sheet of tin foil folded neatly upon my pate.

I snuck some tater tots under the tin foil before I left the hospital. By the time I arrived home I had a rich, potatoey treat ready for myself.

5 Comments:

Anonymous The Wordy Bird said...

Ain't hospital food the bomb? Shame you couldn't have snuck out some of that soft-serve ice cream, too. Served with thorazine sprinkles, it's what's for dessert!

10:11 PM  
Blogger gatsby said...

packard the uncarved block.

so i get nothing for the packard cup comment ay?
huh.
i was quite fond of that comment, even though i blew a "your" in it- which sucks. but still, i thought rugged,
(not really, a couple of the guys weigh more than 120 pounds, otherwise it's like hobbit football)
dudes engaging in what robert downey junior once referred to as violent ground acquisition games that are in fact crypto-fascist metaphors for nuclear war, all for a wave from your royal wagon, might warrant a high pitched squeal.
what does one have to do to elicit a squeal from you packard?

12:12 AM  
Blogger Bleak Mouse said...

Let's just say for the moment that I believe your story. I'm not saying I do, but it's not entirely implausible.

Am I to picture you thinking nothing (or Nothing, as we continental philosophers put it)?

Or, my preferred interpretation, am I to picture nothing, and then to picture you thinking it?

This may seem a trifle. Nothing could be further from its actual importance. It's rather a metaphysical hot potato, if I may say so.

On related topics, there's a poem implicit in your post. (Gown/crown, feet/treat, that sort of thing.) I'm not saying it's a good one, but it may be Oxford material.

10:15 AM  
Blogger OldHorsetailSnake said...

"Herring boxes, without topses, sandals were for Clementine." Bing Crosby, 1946.

2:32 PM  
Blogger David said...

Nothing? Nothing?

"Nothing is an awe-inspiring yet essentially undigested concept... plain persons generally are reported to have little difficulty in saying, seeing, hearing, and doing nothing. Philosophers, however, have never felt easy on the matter..." Peter Lauchlan Heath, 1920-2002 (At least now he's certain to know more about nothing than you or I.)

8:42 AM  

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