Killer Shrews and Tube Socks

I haven't written much as of late, so I figured I'd say a word or two. Not a valuable or insightful word or two, I'm guessing. But at least one word or two.

This weekend was a strange but eventful one. Kinda like a warm fuzzy existence for a few days in a sudden alternate reality.

Thursday night I spent sitting in my tube socks in a Tremont bar, reading Harlan Ellison and eating feta cheese pizza while downing a Corona.

Tube socks are foxy. I got hit on by many a fella.

I also shot pool and discussed what religion and existence would be like if we all lived for eternity and had no chance of dying--Would spirituality and religion die out? Would there still be a need for it? Why haven't more vampire books delved into this subject (or have they)?

Saturday such philosophical meanderings took a turn for the worse:

What if killer shrews really DID exist??



Would this alter the way I live my life? Would I make every moment count a little bit more?

Would I still wear my tube socks in bars at Tremont?

Where is this train of thought barreling to on its rusty railroad tracks?

I have no idea.

I guess when it comes down to it, it is good, this looming fear of death. I think it's healthy--gives us motivation and gets our asses moving.

Things I need to start working on before the Killer Shrews destroy my ass:

1. Write more often--I like one of my friend's ideas to write something (even if it's a sentence or two) every single day.

2. Sink my teeth into life with more fervor.

3. Build a contraption that fends off the killer shrews for just a little bit longer.

4. Spend more time with friends.

5. Start running or doing something else exercisey (that doesn't fuck up my neck).

6. Get some thicker tube socks.

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