Friday, September 29, 2006

Is the Rectum .... a GRAVE? Haaaaaaaa.

Well, well, well. The Sage has smoked all of That Which She Holds Most Dear that she brought with her from the Promised Land of California, so now she has none, so this is not really a chronicle, because she is not high in the least. And it grieves me. But I promised Jen Sparks that I would send one out anyway. So here we go.

Margery was running around our household with a dollar bill in her mouth. "Girl, this ain't no place of ill re-PUTE!" I said to her in my alter-ego voice. Also, after a few glasses of wine and champagne last weekend, I introduced my fellow 1st-year English students (there are only 8 of us) to my black alter-ego, and now I have them saying, "Bitch PLEASE!" with the accompanying sassy arm-and-head-movements.

Haaaa on my Intro to Graduate Study syllabus is a reading entitled, "Is the Rectum a Grave?"
"A GRAAAAVE?" I howled.

I just ate a bunch of grapes that had seeds in them, because the seeds were smallish and I was not expecting them to be there.

Haa, yesterday I was talking to the electricity lady on the phone, and she said, "What was the unit number?" and I said, "B, as in Barbecue."

One day, I thought, "What if my name had been Troshelle?" (I thought of that name myself, although I am sure it has been used by others), and it made me laugh for a long, long time.
I was reminded of that because I got an email from a broad named LaShawnDa (seriously, that is how it was spelled, and capitalized).

Haa, the printer is shaking as if it is giving birth to twins. If I ever got pregnant with twins, I think I would be somewhat pissed for the first few weeks, but then I would get over it.
And also, if you get knocked up by the Lord (as happened in the case of Mother Mary), does that technically count as rape since it happened without your consent, or are you not able to consent to magical impregnation by a higher power? I have been thinking about that.

Haa, once Tasty growled at my father many times in a row from his windowsill and I thought accusingly, "He doesn't like black people," but actually he growled at a lot of people from his windowsill, especially if they were men, so I don't think race had anything to do with it. And plus, he did live with Janine and me for many months, and we exposed him to other cultural and ethnic and racial persuasions, as well as Flavor of Love and The Janky Show, which also count.

And this pseudo-chronicle would have come sooner, but an evil spirit entered into my laptop Charles FitzGerald and made him unable to access the internet until I get some spyware software installed, which will not happen for another week, and it grieves me that he is ill. I had to spend like 3 hours on the phone with the Internet service people trying to figure out what was wrong with him, and by the end of the conversation I found myself saying things like, "Well, I don't know my computer very intimately," and the Indian guy on the other line (I am not making racist assumptions. He was really in India) kept saying, "That is strange," but was unable to fix poor Charles. After I had hung up the phone, I closed Charles and pushed him away from me and said, "You are dead to me."

And that is all. I literally am reading literature and writing notes on it 8 to 10 hours a day. It is crazy, but then again, there is nothing I would rather be doing, except for smoking pot, so it is a good path that I have chosen.

~UnHigh Sage


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