Touch me. Touch me like you didn't touch me last night.

Brief thoughts of the morning:

    My fiancée, Sara, is good to me.
    I decided, last night, upon what I thought some good names for children were. Not that we’re having one, that is, we were just discussing it.

    Apparently “Laser Cannon Stone” is not a good choice.

    Same goes for “Giant Robot Stone.”

    But this is good. She keeps me much more balanced than I could possibly hope to be on my own.
    For example, I’m very fond of hypothetical situations, like “Sara, if I had a small, vestigial face on the side of my head, and it didn’t work, but it would cry real tears every time I was happy, or at inappropriate moments, like when I’m telling you I love you, would you still love me as much as you do now?”
    Sara does not like these, and wisely refuses to answer them.
    She also lets me watch snippets of kung-fu movies during the ten minutes before her TV shows start.
    And she bought me shelves for my toys, which I can look up from the computer and see as I write. Like now. LOOK OUT GODZILLA! KING GHIDORAH IS RIGHT THERE! Mind you, Pikachu is about four inches to his right, and a little Playmobil wizard about six inches to his left, but I feel these pose him far less of a threat.
    And there are, of course, more good things. But these are the things I think about on mornings before I go to work, on days when I won’t see her until 9pm.

    So, to summarize, Sara = good, naming your child “Extra Super Bonus” = bad.

benjamin

Tuesdays are weird

Music of the moment: Bjork singing the “Gloomy Sunday,” the “Hungarian Suicide Song”
Last movie I watched: “The Gin Game” with Mary Tyler Moore and Dick van Dyke
Books: “Lizard,” a collection of short stories by Banana Yoshimoto, and “The Weaponshops of Isher,” by A.E. van Vogt.

Everybody else can talk at: dead-horse@yahoogroups.com