Of jeans that don’t fit, lost socks and bungee jumping




I would love to say that I threw on a pair of jeans, but since Nanowrimo started, I have been eating jelly babies and the kilograms have a way of congregating on my hips and thighs. They are quite comfortable there and hold year long sermons. Instead of throwing the jeans on, I pegged them to the chair and the underwear drawer. They stood up ever so deftly. The next step was to slather my legs in lotion, get up onto the bed and jump into the jeans. It worked well except that the top button refused to close; I remedied it with a large safety pin. I grabbed a t-shirt which boldly proclaimed that I see dead people- which would sort of explain the muse. Socks, I needed a pair and was only coming up with singles. Where do the lost socks go? They slip into a parallel world and are planning world domination as we speak. This is why you should never mark socks. It gives them a portal to your dreams and you will forever be plagued by sock nightmares.

“What do you think you’re doing?” her voice asked.


“Back to the story of the socks are we? Read my lips, it will never be a full length novel.”

“I can’t very well read your lips if I can’t see them,” I said, somewhat miffed at her tone.

A huge pair of red lips appeared in the room as she repeated herself.

“Let me just try; it may be a best seller,” the author in me was trying desperately to stand her ground.

“No! Find your sneakers;, my patience is wearing thin,” the lips pouted and promptly vanished.

Cheshire cat wannabe, I thought.

“I can still hear you. I am living in your head after all,” she said mockingly.

“If you live there, why do I even need to get dressed? I could just bungee jump in my head.” Being a visual person I closed my eyes and imagined my brain tethered to something resembling a spinal cord. I watched as it grew tiny millipede legs and shuffled to the edge of the bridge. All the feet were clad in identical, black sneakers and white socks. It stood trembling like a mound of jelly before it leaped off, the lobes all scrunched together in fear. I heard a wet, splattery sound and opened my eyes. Could the spinal cord be elastic? I would have to call my friend Google in for some advice. So much for bungee jumping….

If you really need to have an elastic spine watch this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DxOtSudIsT8



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