(if you are a Sugarcubes fan, you will recognize those lines, but I am appropriating them for good reason)
My dad came through with some pictures of my mom's funeral and here she is. I don't see the can of Coors. I guess we thought, since it was a Church affair, that would be going a wee bit too far. Too bad! But it's still horridly, wonderfuly......fucking WEIRD!
Poor mom. I think she ate too many malted milk balls.....what is up with the greenish cast to her skin (and the balls)? Is she radioactive?
I'm about falling out of my chair here. She looks like Herman Munster. Should we sue the mortuary posthumously? She should have Morticia's long black hair.
No six feet under for me. You better burn my ass.
On a lighter note, I am thoroughly enjoying my vacation. I've decided to go on vacation. And not figure shit out, like what am I going to do for work in the winter (not to mention all the other questions of the existential bent I've been fielding), etc ad nauseum. I DO figure that if I can just freaking RELAX for a solid few weeks, the answers will arise*. Despite what others may think, I really haven't been on vacation since quitting my job and selling my stuff and going off last September. I haven't felt relaxed in the least.
I just might do this for a few months.
*or, I should say, I will wear the mantle of ambivalence and unknowing more convincingly
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