...Faces look ugly when you’re alone/ Women seem wicked when you’re unwanted/ Streets are uneven when you’re down....
The world is weird. Everywhere I drive, I notice evidence of small creatures who have hurled themselves beneath the wheels of oncoming vehicles. Could this be Vehiculicide Rodentialis? Is there more roadkill, or am I just noticing more? Weird, either way.
More weird: No one in the world likes my favorite soup, yet I find it on Estelle's blog, which makes me say, qu est que c'est?
The Animal, who was the main topic of Letters last week, gets nary a mention this week. Perhaps he's been somewhat less inflammatory than usual? Probably not.
Baltimore native Mink Stole is in John Waters' new flick, A Dirty Shame, and Tim Kreider sports a drawing of himself and his friend Boyd as trouserless (okay, tightless) superheroes. Which is disturbing, because now I'm getting a disturbing image of Christopher Reeve as a half-naked Superman. Before he died. Imagining him as a pantless superhero postmortem goes way beyond disturbing into....well, I'm not sure what the word is, but it's really, really bad.
Other weirdness: It just so happens that I know one of the lawyers defending the Wisconsin shotgun treestand squatter. I don't know him well, mind you; he's CandyBoy's brother. And for another angle on this nauseating story,GunMuse ruminates.
Military regulations with a twist-- 213 Things Skippy Can't Do, courtesy of Mistress Matisse.
Martin returns to the scene of the mime, and will exit some number of hickory stilts lighter, as I retire our lumpish two-by-four models and become an airy, graceful eight foot fairy sprite. This I would not ordinarily include as a 'weird' offering, as it seems like a perfectly normal statement to me, but I begin to realize that 'normal' is really much more boring and pedestrian than I had previously believed.
(People Are Strange; The Doors)