(Originally posted Tuesday, March 04, 2008 )
… than the move my wife and I just endured?
Of course, a lot of things could be worse:
–*Getting a root canal James Frey style
–*Being nostril-raped by a 1 foot tall clone of Napoleon.
–*Having your hamstring cut by an obsessed male nurse who doesn’t want you to leave him.
–*Doing the limbo by driving a Carmengia under a gas truck … and not…quite…making it
–*Having a rigorously copied painting of Georges Seurat’s “A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte” tattooed on your scrotum by I. Lewis “Scooter” Libby
–*Getting bitch slapped to death by a whale’s phallus
–*Going out into the wilds of Alaska to prove your self-reliance … and then starving to death.
–*Being forced at gunpoint to type out your own suicide note in a POW camp and not being able to come up with any better verbs. Or for that matter a word that rhymes with “recalcitrant.”
–*Eating a Retribution sandwich at the Hard Cheese Cafe.
–*Being ear wigged by an ear wigging ear wigger
–*Having a party in your mouth and your parents are invited
–*Being Old Yeller, as opposed to having to just shoot Old Yeller
As of March 3, my wife and I have moved into our new digs. My desk was dropped and destroyed by the movers, so I will still be writing infrequently for a few days, and only then from a very hard, punishing chair.
Beauty is Imperfection 
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