*someone just said this on whatever cooking show is on in the background. "My mum used to make this when we were kiddles... right Kate, let's make a chowder! Nut brown butter!" Who is this chump? Why are there so many chumps on the television? CHUMP TV.
I was going to write a post about how people keep asking me for love life advice* despite the fact that my love life is best described as 'strikingly disorganised' but then I got distracted by the internet, specifically the 'type bears into Google Image Search' part of the internet, and now I can't remember how the rest of the post was going to go.
So I decided instead to take a photo of the huge tomato we grew (it is at least a C cup) but while I was looking for the cord that connects the camera to the laptop I found a couple of old notebooks.
Things that at the time seemed like nuggets of purest golden genius now seem like ripsnorting insanity, like the plan I had to revive the health system by videotaping operations and allowing patients/friends of patients to buy the tape afterwards.
The notebooks appear to be evenly split between philosophical thoughts ('what if birds exploded,**'), band names ('Fuck the Chutney'), things that no longer make any sense ('Secret Secret Pig') and notes to self ('new rule: NO reporters.')
I don't know why there are so many band names when I don't have a band.
I also don't know why I wrote 'BatChap' three times in the same notebook. I think I may have been trying to rename Batman.
I wonder if anyone would actually make Hoverbear? I would totally watch it.
*some classic love life advice from me: "Write I Love You on your bum and moon him at the office." I know, right? Pretty fucking romantic.
**well, what if they did? Other thoughts in this vein included 'what if I was magnetic' and 'imagine if you were stuck somewhere and the only way you could be rescued was by farting SOS in Morse Code.' Yes. Imagine.