another batch...

(take on an empty stomach, every twelve hours... especially if hallucinating)

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If you see me in the hallways, then be aware that, no, I do not want or need any 'free stuff'; I would rather do a meticulous study on cow farts than talk to you.
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Where should I begin? I was always lousy at beginnings; always much more comfortable with endings, and middles--creamy, dreamy middles.
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The turning of the universe around him was something he casually paid respect to, like the need to get out of the way of a fat guy taking up the whole sidewalk...
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The best part of chewing on a greasy, sloppy taco rind is the chance to win the lottery.
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We basted that turkey for at least twelve hours, before we realized that in fact we were a basting a big brown piece of plastic, and the turkey was still alive, running around the backyard eating the begonias.
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Blackout log: first ten hours--darkness mostly. Some light, but only from candles and fireflies. No sign of the sun, yet we remain confident that dawn will come... Much talk of cheeseburgers and how much we miss them.
*
He deaconed at night with a local parish. He was a damn fine deacon and could have made priest some day had not the Church got in the way. Clark never did agree with any of the Church's teachings, but he always wanted to be some sort of priest. Maybe a backup bishop or a small-time cardinal.
*
And so what if a bagel cannot possibly be eaten in less than three seconds, even by the hungriest hog in town?