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Michael considered fate at 18:21   |   Permalink   |   Post a Comment

I have been smelling the strangest things on my hands lately.

Like cat food. ( I have no cats )

Like turpentine. ( I do not paint )

This has been happening a lot in the last few days. Maybe since this weekend sometime. It is possible that I am, in fact, having a heart attack, but I don't smell burning. That's what you smell when you have a heart attack, right? Or is that a stroke?

(side act: wonder if there is a band called the 'heart attacks' as there is a band 'the strokes'. decided that, yes, there probably is a band somewhere called the 'heart attacks'. decide to hate said band site unseen for their clear lack of creativity. get in fight with friend who loves them. wash up blood and body parts afterwards, bury in woods.)

Note to self: Watch lots of Law & Order in order to understand the law. So I can avoid it. Avoid John.. John Law at least. I hate him.



If the smell continues - you know, the smell on the hands - I might have to think about that one. So far I've managed to ignore it. Until now.

(side urge: kill ants)

I often think that I have an urge to watch a movie I have seen before and I enter into a severe internal struggle over the time wasted to watch something before vs. the enjoyment of watching the movie. I learn to hate myself so good. Lazy bastard like you wouldn't believe. But, I realize I've had the thought before which is as tired and boring as watching the movie - yet again - for the hundreth time - one more time. So why not just enjoy the damn fucking movie?

Cause it wasn't that great the first run through.