The Sabbath, a time to give thanks
I'm thankful for the simple pleasures in life. Take shamanism, for example. If I hadn't been able to cast good fortune spells, I cannot imagine what my weeks would be like. And for that matter, if it wasn't for llama wool, my cloaks would not be so comfy. In Utopia, it is said, men and women were happy by only fulfilling the most basic of needs, separated from the troubling interferences of capitalistic endeavor and coveting the neighbor's wife. One of the simple, yet infinitely pleasurable gems of Utopian life, Thomas Moore imagined, was, of course, relieving an excess. I'm thankful for that, too.
I'm also very thankful for low-hanging fruit, such as the luminescent genius of Tommy Burger. Who is this fucking guy and how could he have conceived of something so magical? As a distinguished illusionist, I am nothing short of astonished that this is available with chili cheese fries and a big gulp for somewhere in the neighborhood of $7.50. Though times are tough with those fucking Coldplay clowns selling out so many venues, I consider it money well spent.
After another long weekend of run of the mill depravity, it's nice to look back on the things that give life flavor. In the last 72 hours, there was both bad and good. Good: doing a show-stopping karaoke version of Only the Good Die Young. Bad: being stonewalled singing Been Caught Stealing. Good: Raucous sex with divorcees. Bad: losing $50 in pool to a retirement aged Chinese lady (and $10 to a guy on mushrooms.) Good: finding a cigarette under the couch in the morning. Bad: forgetting to eat for two days and coughing blood. Good: performing an impromptu puppet show on Lincoln Blvd. Bad: being arrested for it. I appreciate all of these mundane treasures with equal passion.
I'm not entirely sure why, but I am also quite thankful for this guy. Just knowing that he is out there makes me not ever want a girlfriend again. In fact, I'm close to confident that he has been hand fed grapes by at least two of my ex-girlfriends.
Well, let it be known that I am no ingrate. For these things and more, I am thankful.
Shakes,
MM
Oh yeah, and a special shout out to the LDL. Good times were channeled.
I'm also very thankful for low-hanging fruit, such as the luminescent genius of Tommy Burger. Who is this fucking guy and how could he have conceived of something so magical? As a distinguished illusionist, I am nothing short of astonished that this is available with chili cheese fries and a big gulp for somewhere in the neighborhood of $7.50. Though times are tough with those fucking Coldplay clowns selling out so many venues, I consider it money well spent.
After another long weekend of run of the mill depravity, it's nice to look back on the things that give life flavor. In the last 72 hours, there was both bad and good. Good: doing a show-stopping karaoke version of Only the Good Die Young. Bad: being stonewalled singing Been Caught Stealing. Good: Raucous sex with divorcees. Bad: losing $50 in pool to a retirement aged Chinese lady (and $10 to a guy on mushrooms.) Good: finding a cigarette under the couch in the morning. Bad: forgetting to eat for two days and coughing blood. Good: performing an impromptu puppet show on Lincoln Blvd. Bad: being arrested for it. I appreciate all of these mundane treasures with equal passion.
I'm not entirely sure why, but I am also quite thankful for this guy. Just knowing that he is out there makes me not ever want a girlfriend again. In fact, I'm close to confident that he has been hand fed grapes by at least two of my ex-girlfriends.
Well, let it be known that I am no ingrate. For these things and more, I am thankful.
Shakes,
MM
Oh yeah, and a special shout out to the LDL. Good times were channeled.
