Surgical Words

In typical March fashion, it has suddenly warmed up.

Perhaps everyone’s first clue was the blooming of the Bradford pears, and the sickening, fermenting smell that emanates from these trees. From a distance, their snowy white is beautiful, but the cloud of stench that surrounds them is unbearable.

Today was a day for throwing open the windows and stretching out on the bed in boxers.

I napped before dinner, and woke up bleary-eyed to uncooperative, crumbly cornbread and catfish. When I returned to my room, the matte black of the screens in the windows stared like eyes, with green pinpoints reflected from the lava lamp on my desk.

The insects outdoors and the wash of air from the fan remind me that, indeed, we all remember.

phil: very bizarre
estie: strange strange strange strange
estie: i vote on the legal name-change of “vagina” to “enigma”
phil: it surely is one
phil: and change “Enigma” to “Vagina,” to make world war II history textbooks more interesting
phil: “WE’VE GOT TO FIND THAT VAGINA MACHINE OR THE GERMANS WILL WIN!!”

The French have a verbs for awfully specific actions, like landing on the moon. For example:

J’alunais quand j’ai frappé.

I was landing on the moon when I farted.

Estie and I propose a new verb: ajovir, which takes “jovi” from Latin and means “to land on Jupiter.”