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.
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.
3 Comments:
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!
"Herring boxes, without topses, sandals were for Clementine." Bing Crosby, 1946.
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.)
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