Random detritus

My brain is a magical place, full of fairies and crying men...

On the way to work this morning, this thought popped into my head..."When you sit naked in the floor, eating spoonfuls of peanutbutter from the jar and crying, what song do you hear in your head?"

I don't have a clue what this means, or what caused me to think it. I don't know what to do with it either, so I'm giving it to you.

Larry A., the man with a thousand stories...

Larry A, one of my favorite customers, was full of stories this week. He told me about the nest of Indian tunnels that run under Nacogdoches (full of trash from the 1870's to the 1930's). He told me about the time he thwarted a robbery attempt in a carwash, all by looking mean and grabbing his pistol. He also told me about the time in Hawaii that a large islander tried to rob him by standing in the middle of the road. Larry clipped him with his car. He's a bad-ass.

Men keep touching me and invading my personal space...

This week, men want to put their arms around me, cup my waist, or talk so close to my face that we could kiss. This has happened every day I've worked. I think it's the air of glamour that surrounds me. It's palpable. (This is meant as a joke. I do not exude glamour. At least not on purpose.)

There are probably more things that I would like to say, but I'm sleepy, and I feel a little lazy. Please enjoy your weekend.

BIFF! A side-note for you. You should read the book that I'm currently reading, "Giraffes? Giraffes!". I think you'll enjoy it and the other books from the Haggis-On-Whey library. I really do.