#3 you told yourself something funny the other day

I'm on vacation. Hope you all enjoy this mystery celebrity guest blog:


Profound. On some level, shouldn't that mean you're good at finding things? You're a fucking pro, and you're found. Maybe you're just good at being discovered.

I can't write poems, no matter how hard I try, songs neither. I can't help rhyming 'block' with 'cock', or 'fleece us' with 'penis' and making a joke of the whole damn thing.

I'm resisting the word 'I' tonight, even though really I'm not.

I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I, I.

There? Is it our of my system? I don't think so - not sure though, we'll see. 'We' is so much better than 'me', but again, I'm unsure.

Just don't fleece us.......

Did you see the joke coming there? I did. Shit. I. Sorry.

The thing about drinking is this, you feel free. In everyday life, you have these thoughts, and ideas, and feelings that frankly, you don't think are good enough, on some level, for modern society. Or ancient society. Or medieval society. See? Can't resist it.

When I worked in Boston. Ok, sorry, 'I' again. Start over.

When you worked in Boston. When we worked in Boston, there was a janitor in our building. Kilo. Or Kee-lo, we were never sure. You/we helped Kilo figure out the LoJack on his new minivan, and when it was stolen two weeks later, we felt good for a month.

When we'd sneak outside for a smoke, Kilo would always catch us, and shout, 'SMOKE, SMOKE, SMOKE!' in a humorously accusatory way.

Kilo worked with his wife and kids and probably cousins and brothers and nieces at the Chinese eatery. His family made the worst food (we found a cockroach once) but we bought it every time out of loyalty to his commitment to our lungs, or mask from humanity.

Two years later, when Kilo was (falsely, we still believe) accused of stealing the vaccuum from the office, we didn't stand up for him, having learned to pick our battles. And that mistake haunts us to this day, and every time we light the smoke, we hear Kilo, yelling in the background. Still.