Saturday, August 25, 2012

The Right Ingredients Can Be Found

So I did find some cocoanut cream yesterday, at Trader Joes in Hillcrest. The stuff seems like pure fat, though I guess a shot of it is only around 25% of the daily recommended fat. It sure made a big difference in the pina colada I made last night, though. That was a good drink.

I was in Hillcrest visiting Tim at his Radio Shack. It seemed like a good enough excuse to go to Hillcrest, a part of town I really like but hadn't been to in a while. I ate at The City Deli and had a great big cheese omelette with fried potatoes and a cinnamon bagel. I felt like a blimp walking to Tim's workplace.

While I was eating, I listened to two guys sitting across from me who were on a date--a pair pretty well separated in age, one of them looking to be in his late fifties and the other in his early 20s. But the young guy reassured him he had "lots of old friends!" I felt bad for the older man. The young guy couldn't seem to stop talking about himself, I've rarely heard a more disconnected conversation between two people. The younger one talked about how he, a blonde, didn't conform to the "dumb blonde" stereotype. He said, "I live very deep in my personality. If I wasn't the person I see in the mirror, who would I be?"

He talked about how he loved old movies, particularly one he saw that starred "the kid from Ferris Bueller's Day Off". Which mustn't have been long after they started recording history in 1980.

Twitter Sonnet #419

Calculated leprous popsicles rise.
Refunded divine vasectomies miss.
Clubs bounce more shapes than we can advertise.
We're all laughing in the Steve Reeves harness.
Soupless crackers cry in the salty void.
Tarnished shortening eludes the shadow shop.
Wealthy eels won't weaken nature's Altoid.
Coy jazz just surfaced to say hi to bop.
Stone loose changelings tear the space time purse strap.
Mermaid suction cups carefully choose delis.
Almond monsters stay up to gansta rap.
Potatoes fill out the decoy chemise.
Low rez lemmings glisten in starry rain.
Millet liquor quiets the dryly sane.

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