Monday, July 14, 2003

Off on a Food Run.
It is 5:15pm. I have just returned from the kitchen where I constructed myself a cheese sandwich.

Now what is there for me to write about? While I'm thinking let me go back to the kitchen. It seems I was so excited about the sandwich that I forgot my drink.

Alright. Here we go. I sip my lemonade. The empty wrapper of Grilled Cheese flavored crackers lays like desolation on top of a book. The binding of that book melted in the back of the car. The pages are loose like an early manuscript.

The other day I lost twenty bucks. Believe you me, I didn't forget it was gone. I didn't forget how valuable it was to me. Today I found that twenty. Andrew Jackson smiled bigger than he did last time I saw him. I smiled bigger too.

To me, having your picture on money seems insulting. It's the ultimate low. It's not a thing of honor. Everyone in the world is saying, "just wait'l I get my hands on you...I'm gonna use you!"

Hold still, I'm going back to the kitchen now. This time the treat shall be a peanut butter sandwich. We have grape jelly, but that would be too much involvement.

You ever notice how when your hungry, food is the only thing that can tidy you over. Like, we are short on food supply here and so I've been trying to eat a little and then entertain myself by writing. My stomach ain't falling for it.

As you may know, I sell books online. When checking my email I am occassionally overcome by fear. It's the fear of the angry customer emailing me with complaints. Lucky me, today I only got spam.

Ah, Spam. That sounds good. Of course, human flesh sounds good after you live on the streets long enough. Not that I know anything about that.

All this talk about food is making me hungrier. So, I am summoned to the kitchen once more. Aha, I am back. Now I've the greatest snack of all...Bread and Barbecue Sauce. Two Slices Too!!!

One time I watched this movie about this kid who had to fend for himself during the great depression. He had no food or money and I guess shoplifting didn't occur to him. So to tease himself he cut pictures of food out of magazines. Then, he psyched himself up and dug in. That's always scared me. I mean, I can't stand the idea of a papercut in my throat.

Well, I can't figure out what to say. My gut is doing enough talking. The sandwiches weren't cutting it and now the bread is gone. So, I'm going to hussle on down to the Subway in town. Just like Jared!

Bye-Bye...

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