Thursday, March 26, 2009

food and poop

My hoodie smells like old spaghetti sauce. Combed the fabric, no sign of spaghetti stain. Rios informed me tonight that spaghetti sauce stains your teeth! Perfect. My teeth are yellow enough as it is. I brush them daily and nightly, I might need to bleach those suckers.

Ran with Kahlua. When I run, like really run, with the Black Lips loud and garage-y on my I-pod, until my chest burns, I get dizzy. I'm dizzy, still. Right now. Before I took Kahlua on our run/walk/sniffing adventure, I couldn't find any plastic bags for poop. We're out of old Wal-Mart bags. Tonight is the second night, in a row, that I've looked at an empty water bottle and thought, "I should use that for scooping poop." I have no idea why this thought comes into my head, but both times, immediately after thinking it, I reminded myself that I am fucking retarded. I settled for an old plastic Subway bag. Last night it was a Taco Bell bag. I get this weird feeling, when I glove my hand with a Taco Bell bag, and I grab the dump, it being all warm and hard, and the smell wafts up, double-helixing with the smell of Taco Bell Mild's a feeling like when you're in a bathroom and you're holding a drink and suddenly it isn't appetizing anymore because of that grimy piss smell. It's like that, yeah.

Endnote: "Quantum of Solace" kicked my ass in the action department (except for the first 2/3rds of the airplane chase and the fact that the last 2/3rds of the "Bond escapes the SWAT team" scene must be floating in the ether, somewhere), but suffered from severe structural problems. Put it this way, if it's bad enough that I notice, you have a problem with your structure.

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