New math:
hours needed to grade the current
stack of research papers x
pots of coffee ÷
Icy
Hot neck patches –
trips
outside to scream =
chocolate
martinis you get when you're done.
Yes,
Mr. Brown; it is STILL
a man's world.
Going
to bed at dark is a sign that in a beautifully Zen-like way, you've
become one with the cycles of the earth and sun. It is a sign of
your complete harmony with the cosmos and the enlightened
understanding of the non-existence of time. It is a sign of your
total surrender to the instinctual Inner You. It is certainly NOT
a sign of aging.
It's
one of life's little blessings that when I'm doing my best
interpretive dance at Ray's gigs, I can't see what the people behind
me see.
The
venison in my freezer tastes slightly less good since the friend who
shot the deer described its size as “Bambi's Mother.”
Your
57 houseplants are NOT
your children. They are just another symptom of your aberrant
hyper-nurturing gene.
We
need to bring back the salon: gatherings in friends' homes, with
live music, poetry readings, weighty discussion & debate, no TV,
and wine (do you sense my end-of-semester-salvation theme?)
Capitalism
has replaced religion as the purveyor of guilt; i.e., you wouldn't
seriously consider NOT
buying your poor devoted partner/spouse/girlfriend/grandma/sports
fan that _____________, would you?
It
wouldn't be Thanksgiving without Mom sneaking red hot candies into
every dish.
I
now regret getting my son a rubber chicken head mask and
bacon-flavored toothpicks for his birthday. But only a little.
Knitting
IS
meditation.
Secret
Dream Job: Black backup chick singer, with a body MADE
for a red sequined dress and red stilettos.
You
can deny the approach of winter & Jack Blizzard all you want,
but that stocked wine cellar and that freezer full of fancy pastas, coffee beans, pesto and dark chocolates says you know
it's coming.
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