- a dark place where one goes to insert suppositions and other soft bits.

Monday, November 25, 2013

BIRDS OF A FEATHER

I used to live in Gastown. My apartment was on the fourth floor. Outside my window, in a magnificent tree, a crow sat in her nest high above. There she stayed for weeks; day and night, rain and shine, waiting for her chicks to hatch. Everyday the male, perched in the tree across the street, stood guard. Her protector. Far enough away to give her the freedom to nurture on her own, but always at the ready to save from harm. Every so often, he flew over to check on her, and feed her. It was beautiful and touching, natural and instinctive.

That's how it should be between a man and a woman, too, but... you know... without the worms and all the gross regurgitating.

Sunday, November 24, 2013

EGGSISTENTIAL ANGST

So. Speaking of pies. I prefer fruit pies to meat pies. I can't think of any vegetable pies. I guess quiche is a pie. It's not vegetable though. It's egg. An egg pie. What are eggs? They're not a vegetable. Not fruit. They're not really meat. Kind of a grey area. It's food, but doesn't really fit in anywhere. Kind of like when you were the new kid in school. You know...

Everybody's like, "Hey. Kid. You don't fit in. Okay."
And you're like, "Yeah I do."
And the one kid says, "No you don't."
Then the other kid says, "Yeah! So shut up, or I'll make mince meat outta ya."
And you're all, "That's pie filling, right?"
And he's like, "What?"
Then you're all, "Mince meat. It's pie filling."
And he's all, "So?"
And you're like, "Yeah, it can be fruit or meat. But not egg. Egg is different."

Right?

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