What's been keeping me from chewing the inside of my lip into a bloody pile of sloppy joe filler lately is listening to this U2 album. Oh, Bono. I have such a ridiculous lifelong crush on that man. You probably do too, even if you don't want to admit it. It's kind of like the Kinsey Scale, which suggests that everybody has some level of homosexual tendencies, even the extremely hetero folks. Even those who find U2 unappealing and too mainstream have to respect Bono for being an ambassador of peace, amnesty, and trying to ending world poverty. He's basically a superhero. So we're all gay, and we all love Bono. Just come to terms with it already.
Saturday, November 22, 2008
I am not kidding you when I say that Julian narrowly avoided being sold to gypsies yesterday. He has been such a piece of work for the last few days that I really don't know what to do with him, besides taking away everything he loves and putting him in the most boring part of the house, which we call the "Think Chair". It's like he wakes up on some days and asks himself, "What can I do to piss with my mom all day? What can I do that is most destructive?" So on those days, it takes everything in me not to hand him over to circus folk who will teach him awesome contortionist tricks and tightrope walking. As I'm typing this, that boy is so close to becoming a carnie. Sometimes I feel like Frank Costanza, yelling "Serenity NOW!"