Hitchhiking

I find in my life than incoherency can be one of the major problems of communication. Which when I state, seems obvious, but up until the moment I put it down, I hadn't really considered it all that much. Probably due to my mind being preoccupied with other, much more interesting and seemingly-useful thoughts (exactly how big can a corndog be before it's too big to stay on the normal corndog-sized stick? And how does one cook a corndog that large? And how much catsup/ketchup/sugary-tomato-paste do you need for such a corndog? How can I make a corndog exactly that big...but no larger?)

But as my mind wanders to such interesting thoughts, I can find it difficult to keep it on the matter at hand. And as I grow increasingly sleepy, I find it increasingly easy to discover my mind wandering to such increasingly interesting thoughts. And the less I think about here-and-now and the more my sleep-induced musings grow, the less I seem to make sense to those around me. Since I'm nearly always growing increasingly sleepy, the levels of my incoherency occasionaly manage to approach unbounded heights. Which in itself is impressive.

Although my thought procesees can be most entertaining and amusing for myself, mumbling about the stench of the space remaining in a clown car on Venus is unlikely to be much for continuing the conversation that happened to be about parakeets. Unless the parakeets are dying from the stench, but that's only been shown to happen when around clown cars parked in Venus' caves, a circumstance and location most certainly not covered by the conversation at the time.

And so my mind wanders, and I cannot seem to find myself making sense to anyone but me. Sadly, my mind started wandering again sometime last May. If anyone happens to see it, please send it home. I'd like it to find its way back before I move.

If it's not stopped wandering soon, I fear I'm going to confuse everybody by discussing the merits of underwater pens and the ways tuna have found to make use of them. Please send it home...unless you're into that sort of thing.

Oh What a Slug I Am

I have decided that I have the self-esteem of your average ordinary garden slug but not of the kind that lives near the tomato plants in your average ordinary garden because my invisible friend Zoe told me that the slugs that live near the tomato plants are the high-class slugs so surely they've got a lot of self esteem because they have it made in life although I doubt that they believe that I have an invisible friend Zoe because noone else seems to believe it either even though I tell them not to sit in the chair next to me at lunch because she's sitting there already but they go ahead and sit down and then they squish her and blood and guts go flying everywhere but at least they're invisible blood and guts so you don't have to worry too much about cleaning up afterward because noone notices until it starts to smell but then people just blame it on the food which would be great except there's Zoe laying in a pile of blood and guts which would be pretty horrible if she weren't able to make herself all better which she says she can't actually do and that it's her imaginary friend that puts her back together again but I don't really believe her when she tells me that because if her friend is imaginary how could he do anything to put her back together but she says that he's a magician from the planet Zeist so he can do wonderful things like working in the real world even though he's imaginary so I still don't believe her but at least she gets well every time although people do still think that I don't have a real friend because they can't see her and they think that she's imaginary and so they look at me like I'm crazy and sometimes they call me crazy to my face and I'm thinking that I might start believing it myself and that's why I think I have the self-esteem of your ordinary garden slug.