Fever

Adrian and I are home sick today and we’re trying to decide between watching “Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World” starring Russell Crowe and a boat or working on a dissertation about mental representation in Early Modern and Medieval philosophy. Adrian is leaning toward the boat, because he hates typing and he thinks that great Last Medieval, Suarez, was a jackanape.

Being home sick means that I won’t be co-oping in Adrian’s classroom today, and we’ll miss the class’s pumpkin patch extravaganza and pot luck, which means I don’t have to make or buy a side dish for the pot luck, but also means that I don’t get to take any pictures of Adrian dressed in his Buzz Lightyear costume surrounded by babies in far inferior costumes and also means I can’t remember where the period key is so this sentence is just going to go on and on and I have infinite iterations of conjunctions at my disposal to continue the run-on but I know you’ll get bored of so many words in a row that have nothing to do with each hey that looks like Gerard Depardieu on the television and I think it really is him and that’s the dude who plays Peter Pettigrew and I’m pretty sure that’s Uma Thurman but there is no world in which those three people should ever be in a film together unless it’s about a cook in Louis XIV’s Versailles and thankfully that is indeed what this is about so phew I can’t believe the world was this close to annihilation while Adrian just lay there on his mat convalescing the end.

I used to write a blog about parenting. It was okay. Sometimes I’d tell funny stories.

Hot blooded, check it and see. I’m gonna live to be a hundred and three. (That was a Foreigner/Jiminy Cricket mashup.)

You’d think, based on all that has transpired here today, that I’m the one with the fever, that I’m the one who woke up every hour and a half throughout the night because I was either coughing or my poten-denta were coming in. Alas, I am not fevered. I’m just tired. And it’s 9am and why not just type and type and type and see who reads down this far.

Teragram, em s’ti ?Dog ereht uoy era.

I just totally made that language up. It doesn’t mean anything. Don’t try to figure it out. Hey is that Gerard Depardieu in a movie with Queen Latifah because that should never happen unless it’s a comedy of errors involving a hotel called “poo” or something in a country no one goes to but looks kind of like that country Anne Hathaway is the queen of after she deposes Maria Poppins.

Can people make any money doing this? Adrian is bored and wants to go play some video games but I don’t have any quarters, so I figured if there was a way to make money from blogging maybe I could give him some quarters and he could make use of this sick day the way I used to in high school which was by going to the arcade and chain-smoking while getting the perfect score on Hippodrome and kicking ass at the Terminator 2: Judgment Day pinball game. I also liked Off-Road. What? Oh, but he shouldn’t smoke, no matter how cool the other babies say it makes them look. It makes them look ridiculous, especially when they have no pockets to put their pack in so they roll it up in the sleeve of their onesie.

Hi hi hi hi hi hi hi hi hi hi hi.

Your face makes my head feel better. I don’t mean that in a “I’m rubbing your face on my head” kind of way, which I know is the only way to take that sentence if you’re a rational individual. No, I mean that if I were given a choice between hockey and culinary school I’d probably choose hockey because who wants to watch people go to culinary school. Well, maybe if it were on ice, and there were hip checks. (Note: a hip check is not a cool bill at a restaurant.)

Sometimes my stomach feels solid and round like a possum. I know this because I once poked a possum with a broom handle to get him off my front porch and away from the bowl of cat food I left out for the stray cats in the neighbourhood. He didn’t want to leave, and I didn’t want to open the door to chase him off because have you ever seen their eyes???? They are dead, soulless creatures who just wait for you to leave your house then they pounce and you’re over. So I took the screen off the window and I poked him with a broom handle via the open window rather than let him see my toes up close. And he was solid. That’s how my stomach feels sometimes. And that paragraph executed a full and complete thought which is better than

There’s a balloon on the floor that used to float up to the ceiling. It’s black, but Erin denounces such pronouncements: “No! It’s purple!!!” Anyone want to buy a colourblind two year old? Although I’ve never heard of being colourblind in a way that would make black appear to have a hue. Maybe that’s not colourblind but hyper-colour-sighted. Damn, maybe that balloon really is purple in whatever dimension Erin can see into with those eyes.

I went to Versailles once. In the basement cafeteria of Versailles (which is not something you’d ever really think of as a thing, but there is totally a cafeteria, and there are bathroom attendants who sell gum and candy on little tables which isn’t that unusual for European bathrooms, but you only see stuff like that in America if you’re drunk at a nightclub and even then usually the dude isn’t so much selling gum as you are punching a stranger in the bathroom and stealing his gum) I designed, plotted, and wrote out a video game that was going to be the best video game ever. It was a first-person action game that also combined economic strategy, sword-fighting, political intrigue, and turned-based war simulation. It was a gladiator game. I had just seen “Gladiator” starring Russell Crowe a few months earlier and I’d also read Guy Gavriel Kay’s “The Sarantine Mosaic” and I was enthralled with Roman and Byzantine intrigue and games.

So, anyway, Adrian and I are going to watch “Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World” starring Russell Crowe because of that one time in the basement of Versailles when I bought gum in the bathroom next to the cafeteria. Uma Thurman was not present.

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