I received this email from myself this morning, clear evidence that I wrote it last night for this very 'blog, and then reconsidered posting it, so I just deleted it. That happens to many a prospective 'blog post. A lot of writing and very little posting. But everything I write is emailed back to me, and I reconsidered, so here it is. A nasty entry about foot picking, among other things.
A disgusting habit that has me tender-footed today. Peace.
A disgusting habit that has me tender-footed today. Peace.
- From: "Darren W. Lyle"
- To: DWLyle@comcast.net
- Subject: [Darren W. Lyle, Zeitgeist Expatriate & Honored Citizen of the House of Four ...
- Date: Friday, January 11, 2008 3:10:39 AM
I'm currently engaged in a repulsive habit, which is "picking" at patterns of dead skin on my feet, mostly collected around the heel and big toe. You may know of what I speak. A normal person would put moisturizer, or even just Vaseline, on the hardened heels and toughened toes. So naturally that's not what I'm doing. And it's hard to sleep tonight due to a flu-like illness, combined with the obsessive foot thing, which is also making it a grueling challenge to walk. It's now 3am and I've been at it since 1ish.
A conversation with an old friend just concluded, one about the recent American/Iranian boat show in the Strait of Hormuz. Neither one of us were on our "A" games, analysis-wise, and two things are really distracting me, besides the self-inflicted skinning of my feet. The first is a rare treat for this time of the day, the beeping sound of a truck backing up. If I weren't buck naked, I'd go outside and find out where the fuck this truck is, and then I don't know what. Probably just act annoyed in a passive-aggressive fashion until it finished it's apparently very long, backwards journey. I want whatever beeping fucking thing out there to stop beeping.
The second "distraction" is my fluffy chest hair and thinning head hair. As I looked down at my lap (including penis, of course) whilst waiting for my online friend to respond to my commentary, I detected the hair on my chest and instantly developed the opinion that it is too long. Meanwhile, methinks the hair on my head, right in the front and center, is getting too thin.
That made me think of my lovely Linda. We were out having dinner somewhere the other day and I asked her if she thought my hair was thinning. Her expression at that moment said to me, "Yes, yes it is." The hydrocodone I'm sucking down represent my attempt to forget all that, or at least make me faux content in regards to a hairy issue.
It's past three right now, and it's time to crawl back into bed and lie awake there for another hour or two.
--
Posted By Darren W. Lyle to Darren W. Lyle, Zeitgeist Expatriate & Honored Citizen of the House of Four Cats at 1/11/2008 02:31:00 AM
A conversation with an old friend just concluded, one about the recent American/Iranian boat show in the Strait of Hormuz. Neither one of us were on our "A" games, analysis-wise, and two things are really distracting me, besides the self-inflicted skinning of my feet. The first is a rare treat for this time of the day, the beeping sound of a truck backing up. If I weren't buck naked, I'd go outside and find out where the fuck this truck is, and then I don't know what. Probably just act annoyed in a passive-aggressive fashion until it finished it's apparently very long, backwards journey. I want whatever beeping fucking thing out there to stop beeping.
The second "distraction" is my fluffy chest hair and thinning head hair. As I looked down at my lap (including penis, of course) whilst waiting for my online friend to respond to my commentary, I detected the hair on my chest and instantly developed the opinion that it is too long. Meanwhile, methinks the hair on my head, right in the front and center, is getting too thin.
That made me think of my lovely Linda. We were out having dinner somewhere the other day and I asked her if she thought my hair was thinning. Her expression at that moment said to me, "Yes, yes it is." The hydrocodone I'm sucking down represent my attempt to forget all that, or at least make me faux content in regards to a hairy issue.
It's past three right now, and it's time to crawl back into bed and lie awake there for another hour or two.
--
Posted By Darren W. Lyle to Darren W. Lyle, Zeitgeist Expatriate & Honored Citizen of the House of Four Cats at 1/11/2008 02:31:00 AM
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