I’m not sure if the target of my title was myself,
or my thoughts being left unattended.
Either of which will work for the purposes of the post.
Make your own selection.
Please do your own work,
No looking at neighbor’s scan-tron sheet.
Has anyone actually ever seen a #1 pencil?
Has anyone ever seen a #3 pencil?
What about,
A five ?
A seven ?
A nine?
What a stupid name for a clothing
store, however surpassed exceedingly,
seemingly unabated, by Old Navy.
Now hush,
I don’t want to go off on a tangent here.
I need to focus on the topic at hand.
Due to a particularly strange sequence of events,
with women,
pimples,
and sex,
I find the act of popping pimples,
to be honest, terribly exciting.
It is an expulsion,
an unchaining,
a release.
I believe in science.
I believe in technology.
Not all science,
and not all technology, mind you.
To further embrace my acne based interest,
I have sought to refine my technique.
Friday, I did not work.
Friday, thanks to my legal team,
I did not have to go to court.
Friday, I went to The GoodWill.
I bought a jacket, one pair of pants,
a white button down shirt
(geez, rachael was right about that),
and a book on s-expressions in Lisp.
In front of The GoodWill,
is a Walgreen’s drug store.
I bought a pack of Tic Tacs,
I love tic tacs. I like the orange ones,
the new big ones that come in cherry flavor,
the red and yellow ones,
I forget the name of them,
and the lemon and lime flavored tic tacs.
I also bought a blemish remover tool.
