12:29 p.m. - 2005-03-04
Screaming Peacock
Once, I was a child, and then, I was a child, and now, I can sometimes remember what it's like to wake up and not be disappointed.

I was planning to be more realistic, but I keep reading this one girl's diary (that's really her name, This One Girl. She's from Vietnam, and she has a sister named That One Girl. They're conjoined), and all she does is...well...not be happy. And sometimes, I know *exactly* how she feels, but I don't really want to express it the way she does, which is kind of the way I think day-old milk would be expressed from a lactose-intolerant cow. So I think to myself...what would Flannery O'Connor do? And that is why, when I woke up today and saw the red sun setting on the cavernous woods, I strapped on my wooden leg and clapped on my hat to go get a new tattoo of Jesus for to impress one of my wives. Only I ran into this dude wearing a loud shirt and a gun, and he told me I'd be a great girl if I'd keep quiet, so I told him that I had a baby hidden in the chimney because it's ugliness reminds me of my own spiritual decay, and that's when he got run over by a tractor that was being operated by a woman who had just been gored by a bull.

I need a vacation.

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