the sometimes suspect musings of max adams
posted by seemaxrun at 6:45 AM
I am studying the physics dillemma, no matter how many clothes I throw into the closet, every time I open the closet door, there is nothing in there to wear. It’s maddening. It must be solved. I’ll get the Nobel Prize when I do. For sport, I climb the Eiffel Tower. And base jump off on rainy days. I am terrified of heights. And peaceful at sea. I work harder than Satan. I sleep later than God. On weekends I repair small toaster ovens for orphans. On holidays, I send Queen Elizabeth cards. I told my dogs they were adopted -- and I got them used. They didn't believe me. They said they have my eyes. When I’m bored I teach dust bunnies to box. I give them names. I wrap all recyclables in Christmas paper. I put on pretty bows. I smoke like a chimney. I drink like a fish. I tell lies for a living. And the truth at home. I have pink dancing slippers I have never worn. And roller skates with fancy laces. I am good at big things. Like conquering the world. And lousy at little things. Like sitting on hold. I have always relied on the kindness of strangers. I believe in the Golden Rule. I believe in true love. And I believe tomorrow is another day.
6 Comments:
Good to see he has finally made some friends. He spent some lonely mornings there for a while.
We have seagulls in Dallas, too. How weird is that?
Somebody told me that they were from the Great Lakes, and they winter here.
My dogs tag team birds. My blue heeler (old and arthritic) will still spring up and catch them in flight if they are foolish enough to swoop (which happens mostly in the spring when they're fighting over the birdhouse in the back yard, or sometimes if they get wild around the birdfeeder). After she eats their head and chews them up really well, she loses interest.
That's when the yellow lab proudly brings them to me.
Sigh.
Sheesh. And I thought my dog defeathering birds was bad.
Dash (the dog) played with a bird in our backyard, using her paws to knock it around the grass until, well, it was bald. Poor little thing was walking around on it's two legs, wings by it's side, naked.
On the upside, it did still have it's head.
Hey! Hey! No more dog mauling bird stories in the seagull topic. He is the only masculine entity in my mornings quit it.
God no. No unlucky bunny stories.
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