Sandwiches!

It has been like a month and a half since I posted anything up here. Crazy. On you. Have you ever listened to the lyrics of Heart's "Crazy on You"? She keeps saying "let me go crazy on you." Which I had heard but never really thought about before the other day when it came on in the radio. What does that even mean? I picture the cat lady from the Simpsons. Perhaps to come home to one of the Heart sisters would be to come home to a woman clothed only in pink pant and the blood of a sacrificed goat. Lets just take a look at the other lyrics though, shall we?

I was a willow last night in my dream
I bent down over a clear running stream
Sang you the song that I heard up above
And you kept me alive with your sweet flowing love

Weird, vaguely romantic, not that crazy, as she states clearly that it was "in [her] dream." I could envision his love flowing like water over her willow. Makes me hot just thinking about it.

But what concerns me is:

Wild man's world is cryin' in pain
What you gonna do when everybody's insane
So afraid of one who's so afraid of you
What you gonna do...ohhh...

What are you planning? Get away from me you crazy bitch? Why did you replace the floor with a grate? Whats with that machete? How did you get that duck shaped paddle boat in the house!? Stop cutting off my toes!

I used to think it was just some nice love song and I guess I thought of the crazy as being more metaphorical, but now I'm just not so sure anymore. Although that song still fucking rocks.

I'm not really sure what the hell else to talk about today. I woke up feeling anxious and optimistic. Much as I felt a young Obama felt the first time he dared to Hope for the Change in his status as a virgin. Oh he had been beating around it for a while. She was popular and cool but dumb as a box of bricks and poor Obama, struggling to make any money he could to help his mother, living on food stamps, while his grandmother didn't buy a car for herself so she could send Obama and his sister to the finest schools, tutored this young thing everyday after school so she wouldn't fail math 1 and lose her cheerleading scholarship. And one day, after a particularly alluring explanation of the Pythagoras theorem, he made his move. Oh it could never last, and he knew that, he was the school nerd, voted most likely to succeed but least likely to get a date. If only Urkle and been around for him to relate to at the time, but sadly he was on his own. Well, maybe he had Potsy. But mostly on his own. She lay down upon his bed, giggling the laugh of young idiocy and Obama felt the first audacity of hope stirring in his loins. It was over before he knew, her blond hairs, though, he continued to cough up for weeks. He never told anyone, but she did, and the origins of the stories of the large cock of the black man spread from that busty cheerleader in that small high school to the rest of the world.

Which brings me back to me. Sorry, that last metaphor kind of got away from me.

I'm sitting in a coffee shop right now and this girl that works here keeps walking by in perfect 4/4 timing, matching perfectly to the song I'm listening to on my headphones. Magically how that works. Like she has some innate female sense that she should be dancing right now, perhaps she really likes the song I'm listening to. Of course only her subconscious can pick up that its being played, somehow transferred from my consciousness to hers. Or perhaps it could be a coincidence, though I like my explanation better.

As I was saying though, I started out today feeling pretty good about things. Which is the first time in about two weeks. For a while everything was looking like it was coming up roses. Then the roses died. Then a dog came and shat upon the dead roses, and life stunk pretty bad, but then the shit decopmposed and the the roses gained new life. Only I'm a little worried about the impending forecast of a drought, but we'll see how that turns out later.