So I get a text message from Suz yesterday morning at 6am. She lives in Oklahoma and possibly forgot that the left coast wasn’t up yet. Or maybe she just wanted to be my alarm clock. After all, she knew I was at the cabin with T-bomb so maybe she just wanted to find out how hungover we were. Apparently she read my previous post and figured we were fucked up when we wrote it. She was right 😦
In any event, after wishing me a Happy Easter, she tells me her house smells like one giant fart. I had to think about that for a while. At first, I thought she was complaining about her teenage son. Then I thought maybe she ate too much broccoli. Then I realized she was hard-boiling eggs. Or so I hoped.
Does it sound wrong that I miss coloring Easter eggs and eating jelly beans or that I wish I had a cute spring dress and white Mary Jane’s? Even though I have no kids…?
Should I be mocking myself now or will you do this for me?
Thought for the day: Never hold your farts in. They travel up your spine, into your brain, and there is where all the shitty ideas come from… You’re welcome.