Practice Guerilla Surrealism

I am in the desert.
Lots of beach.
No ocean.

Last night I had a very surrealist dream.

We’re playing SORRY – Me, Riverdancer, the Cubbette, and the dog. We each rotate playing for the dog. The dog is one of a litter of pups. His sibs were Whitey (the whitest), Blackie (the blackest), and Paderwoofski (the pianist). Of course, Paderwoofski plays yellow. He’s very confused about this whole process, but loves all the attention. Of course, it’s a total gas hearing people say “It’s your human turn” or “It’s my dog turn.”

I get the point, but geometry is just plane boring.

I love percussion. I have more drums than you can shake a stick at.

I’ve worked up a surrealist portfolio: Mind Shots. Y’all drop by and let me know what you think.

In California, can one get medical marijuana to treat the disease of alcoholism?

1. I have a classic watch; it’s timeless.

2. I went to see an acupuncturist today. He needled me about my pain.

My analyst diagnosed me as suffering from ennui. I don’t really care.

Ennui has made more gamblers than avarice, more drunkards than thirst, and perhaps as many suicides as despair. —Buddha

1. Have you ever looked up “synonym” in Roget’s Thesaurus?

2. Ponder the question of Adam’s navel.

3. Take the dog out to read his pee-mail.

4. Teaching origami to the lost sheep so it can return to the fold.

5. Wearing teflon soled ballet slippers.

6. What doth it profit a man if he gain the world but lose his solipsism?

7. Nobody nose the truffles I’ve seen.

8. Did you hear about the drunken shepherd who kept seeing double ewes?

9. My quantum mechanic just raised his rates. Even though it’s all relative, I hate physics.