Thursday, January 05, 2006
The Lunch Bunch
As this time of year is often hectic, I have neglected to update the blog as much as I'd like.
So, lo and behold, I log on today and see that the hit counter has passed 20,000. And that's amazing to me, so thanks to all the loyal royal TLBR readers.
Ok, I don't have a glut of time to write about my lunch experience today, but suffice to say that...well...how do I put it? I live in Milwaukee, and a few years ago that had a guy who was kinda weird and would eat people and stuff. Dahmer, I believe his name was.
Now this guy probably doesn't have a frozen head in his freezer or anything, but like this other guy Norman Bates, he is almost 60 and still lives alone with his mother. Draw any conclusion you'd like there.
I've met weird people. I've met people who weren't weird, but acted as if they were just so you'd think they were weird. A faux weird if you must. (and that's kind of a weird way to act, so I guess it's successful. But I digress...)
I've also met people who tried to be normal, and the more they tried, they got weirder.
But I've never met a person so weird as to accept, embrace, create, sustain, and condone his own weirdness - up to and including his seven existing personalities and the eighth that he is currently constructing.
Ok, so if you're bipolar or have multiple personality disorder, and you're talking about the different sides of, um, you...is it first person possessive or third person?
If you're, oh, "Serious Sam" as this guy admitted to be working on for his eighth "character" and - at that time - you're talking about the personal peccadillos of "Frank Fan," another of his internal, unconscious peeps( ...yeah, he...right, I couldn't possibly make this shit up...)
Ok, I need to stop, because I'm about to have my head spin 360 degrees and start puking bile.
I'm just glad he didn't tell us about Hannibal Cannibal because I didn't have Terry Taser with me.
Moral of the story: I need to brownbag it more. It's safer on my constitution.
One.
So, lo and behold, I log on today and see that the hit counter has passed 20,000. And that's amazing to me, so thanks to all the loyal royal TLBR readers.
Ok, I don't have a glut of time to write about my lunch experience today, but suffice to say that...well...how do I put it? I live in Milwaukee, and a few years ago that had a guy who was kinda weird and would eat people and stuff. Dahmer, I believe his name was.
Now this guy probably doesn't have a frozen head in his freezer or anything, but like this other guy Norman Bates, he is almost 60 and still lives alone with his mother. Draw any conclusion you'd like there.
I've met weird people. I've met people who weren't weird, but acted as if they were just so you'd think they were weird. A faux weird if you must. (and that's kind of a weird way to act, so I guess it's successful. But I digress...)
I've also met people who tried to be normal, and the more they tried, they got weirder.
But I've never met a person so weird as to accept, embrace, create, sustain, and condone his own weirdness - up to and including his seven existing personalities and the eighth that he is currently constructing.
Ok, so if you're bipolar or have multiple personality disorder, and you're talking about the different sides of, um, you...is it first person possessive or third person?
If you're, oh, "Serious Sam" as this guy admitted to be working on for his eighth "character" and - at that time - you're talking about the personal peccadillos of "Frank Fan," another of his internal, unconscious peeps( ...yeah, he...right, I couldn't possibly make this shit up...)
Ok, I need to stop, because I'm about to have my head spin 360 degrees and start puking bile.
I'm just glad he didn't tell us about Hannibal Cannibal because I didn't have Terry Taser with me.
Moral of the story: I need to brownbag it more. It's safer on my constitution.
One.
