Kettles
Fuck, I should write something, and something in particular, I keep thinking kettles but further than that my brain starts to swim, or do something that would make a more suitable metaphor, but I can't think of what it is because my brain keeps doing whatever it is that I can't think of.
Fuck.
Dammit, it's the first proper actual day where I do finally get into the meat of my new anal dorky gimmicky system thingy that I've been going on about forever and I'm not even reall doing it properly. Fuck!
Kettles.
I went on an adventure today, I went out to the country, visited a workshop/junkyard, rode in a tank, met a cat and took lots of photos (of course), didn't eat until 5pm and the diesel fules in my head are making my brain swim, or whatever it is that it's doing. Kettles.
I knew it was something about kettles, but I can't think of what. I'm supposed to ask a question but I don't know any, oh yes I do. What is it about the kettles? It's a stupid enough question I think. Problem is that it's not very clever. Damn! There's always a catch.
8.12.2008
Tuesday Stupid Questions Nodoby ever asks #1, the not really doing it edition.
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2 comments:
I think you have a rare form of Tourrette's Syndrome in which you blurt out the name of kitchen utensils instead of profanities or vulagarisms. If it worsens and you find yourself using compound phrases like kettles and egg whisks I suggest you go see a doctor.
Arse!
Garlic crusher!
What you talking about? I only do it when I'm extremely distressed, toaster! And really.. I find it charming.
I'll only start to worry when I start yelling out random capital cities in South East Asia, I think that will really bother people.. Bandar Seri Begawan! Oh kettles...
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