April 1st, 2005


A hairy subject

Had to get up gawdawful early this morning, get cleaned up and go to the hospital to sit through a surgery. Made it home, had lunch, and was getting ready to go do a funeral, when I noticed in the mirror how scruffy I looked. Five o'clock shadow at one in the afternoon! So I shaved again before going out the door.

Ya know, by the time I was fifteen, I was shaving every day; I thought I was hot stuff. By the time I was in college, I had to shave again if I went out in the evening. By the time I was 21 or so, I decided that this shaving business was getting awfully old. I don't know why I ever thought it was such a cool thing.

Why can't the hair on the FRONT of your head fall out, instead of the hair on top?

Fortuna Imperatrix Mundi

I love Carmina Burana. I was explaining it in updated style for a friend.

"Here's the giggly pack of girls. Those are the beta males who can't get a date. Now's when she finally said Yes. That's a musical orgasm." Et cetera.

Sometimes, I just turn it on and crank it up way loud. Like, when I'm driving the crew home at the end of a looonnng trek, and only a couple of us are awake (and I've got to stay that way). Or, when I've got a mountain of laundry to fold and hang and no enthusiasm for the task (energy transplant!).

Wouldn't it be cool if Mannheim Steamroller covered Carmina Burana?