Thoughts From the Floor: Quarantine Edition

I’m scared dear reader. And my stomach hurts.

I have just watched no less than 6 consecutive episodes of the show “You” on Netflix. Though I started feeling kinda iffy about this “Joe” character about 30 seconds in, I was too intrigued, and frankly, too bored to stop. It is now 3 am and I am thoroughly disturbed.

So now I am invested, body and soul, in this icky story. It’s about a serial-killer and his writer-girlfriend who, by the way, writes really shitty poetry. She should really work on that. And on not dating serial killers probably–but hey, one thing at a time, girlfriend. You find those slant rhymes.

Having already taken two walks, finished a book, had online class, and taken some really contrived photos of myself  (some of my best work) I could afford a little TV time. So I sat in rapt attention with this horrible, disgusting, addicting show, all night. And yes, I am ashamed. 

With both hands in the popcorn bowl, I fell into this disturbing narrative much too quickly. Boy meets girl in a bookstore–easy. Boy goes absolutely batty and suddenly there’s blood everywhere–not so easy.

So, in short, I need a palette cleanser. Something to douse my brain with positivity–or at the very least neutrality.

I have decided that for your reading pleasure dear reader, and mine, I will delve yet again, into my twitter drafts. This is home to some of my most treasured comedic triumphs. The world wasn’t ready at the time they were composed, but the world is different now. Scarier. I believe you are strong enough to take them.

Maybe after a quick visit to a constant barrage of thoughts suitable only for the witnessless void, I can get off the floor and stop debating which acquaintance is trying to kill me.

I wonder how they’d do it.

It’d be with a hard covered book, no doubt.

Wait no. Stop. Delete. Don’t get any ideas. Read the funny drafts and forget. Shhhhhh. That’s right. Laugh away the plotting.

Here’s some drafts to enjoy:

 

“Secret big-boobs”

Hats off to you, emo boys. You needed a new beanie anyway.

Listen I’m doing karaoke alone in my bedroom and having pageants where I crown “miss cereal.” How do you think things are going?

Kiwis, though delicious, are not cost effective. It is for this reason that I will always choose the truly inferior grape.

Overheard: “I recently heard some really great things about Nebraska”

And at the end of the summer the world hadn’t changed, she had changed–or more accurately–she had seen phish twice.

A memoir with street performers. A “mime-oir” if you will.

I am a slut for me (made with autofill)

Wow what a string of horrifically bad decisions I’ve made. Better lay on this bed with no sheets next to this window with no screen to think about that.

Every red flag and still we ride.

I pet a cat named Ernie today. 2 minutes in he rubbed his head on me. Now I call him Ernesto.

My mom fell asleep watching a movie with me, woke up suddenly, whispered the name of our optometrist, laughed, and fell back to sleep.

Sometimes I hear a plane outside and assume it’s a snowplow. In the summer.

My arms hurt will you hold this dialectic for me.

Overheard: “but how STRONGLY does he feel about the doorbell??……. That strongly, huh.”

Start humming the Rugrats theme song and it will turn into “Y’all Ready for This.” Just try it. Trust me.

 

That’s all for now sweet, beautiful reader. I hope you have gotten up from whatever hard, flat surface you’ve been laying on.

I love you. Stay home, please–if you can.

Be safe.