Will the circle be unbroken?

Will the circle be unbroken? Not if I can help it. Of all the circles that I haven't been able to break, there hasn't been a single, smug circle that I couldn't bend into a ridiculous oval. Some folks take up needle point, but I derive much slack from ending the constraint of smarmy circles.

On pretend brick-covered-with-plaster walls

Oh thank Bob for the wall treatment. Nothing makes me feel more like I could have been in a trendy place than sheet rock covered with plaster with fake bricks painted on the plaster in a pattern indicating that the plaster has been chipped away revealing fake bricks. Brick walls are cozy. Plaster walls are upper crust. Brick walls covered with plaster say, "I value expensive things more than coziness." Chipping through plaster to reveal bricks in some spots says, "I like knocking holes in the wall, and am just slobby enough not to worry about ever repairing them." Making a wall treatment with painted on bricks and plaster says, "I enjoy having a good time. Or at least can fake it."

Ear shredder with axe to grind

Well, it isn't pretty. I finally broke down and recorded some little ditties. I outgrew the contentment I feel when bombarding my marina with butchered, blazing banjo tunes. I must now spread this evil sound across the world. Prepare to rock out to the banjo equivalent of blindfolded finger painting. I mean, if that drummer from Def Leppard played banjo, this stuff would have more sound than that!

Not a starfish

Worries about my appropriateness for the gene pool sparked experimental experiments into reproductivity.

I am clearly not going to do this via the old starfish fragmentation route. The appendage I have cut off is just lying there in its own pool of blood, not growing. That may be ok, though as it doesn't really improve the overall genetic diversity. After I get painkillers and a mop, I'll look into spores.

Mutant?

Darwin may be pushing me out. I've just realized that I'm not reproducing and that may mean that I'm just not good fodder for the evolutionary machine.

Peace Corps

Well, I finally sent off some questions and info to the peace corps to see if they have a use for me. I don't know if I'll fit their needs. They've always been in the back of my mind, and right now I'm in the mood and mode to live closer to basics. Helping small communities install that basic requirements for sustainable living sounds like it's right up my alley. I'm still not ready to get back into career mode, and the corps can help keep me from having to go back before I'm ready. In the interim I get to do more stuff that's fulfilling at at a very basic level.

We'll see what they say.

in a rush

People are nutsos. But the best nuts are those that weave in traffic, going 20 miles over the speed limit to get around me, who does a modest 2 miles over the limit, only to have me pass them again at the next street light. I get immense pleasure from seeing these guys silhouetted hand waving exercises, and their phlegm specked windows as they glare and try to yell through the glass at me. Oh, I wish more nutsos had bad air conditioning, so I could hear them. My window is always down, but they seem to need the cool air to help keep their fiery passion from boiling them away.

Red pickup driver guy, thanks for the chuckles you gave me when you were upset that I wasn't moving forward on the shoulder to get around a guy that was going to be making the same turn we both were going to make. You are a slow driver, were you afraid you were going to get stuck at the light? Your bouncing, steering wheel slapping, and tossing your hands in the air, was great. Enthusiasm and great grand gusto. Maybe you were just listening to a really good rap song?

Beat up, black jetta dude, you are a fast driver. Wasn't it fun racing along, really cranking the revs to cut around me? I saw your cheery, cherry red tail lights as you careened to a stop a few blocks away from me at the stop light. I had fun too, as I coasted past you as the light turned green, and pulled in front of you again so I could turn right just past the intersection. I noticed you noticing me. You have OK teeth. I could tell by the way you were showing them to me that you are obviously proud of them. Your impersonation of a dice gambler was creative. I could really see you rolling those dice in your clenched fist over your head. I bet you won that throw, but I'm faster where it counts; mainly in pissing you off.

I've enjoyed you all, and I can hardly wait to see more of you rushing folks.