-How sometimes one car can back into another car and leave without a scratch on either vehicle, when other times one car can back into another and both are quite broken (the first instance happened to me tonight- I was sitting in the car when some little old guy in a giant SUV plowed right into my dad's teeny Mazda- not a scratch either way- weird)?

-What exactly is a "Wonderwall" and why did singing about one make Oasis think they were bigger than the Beatles?

-Why are my toes weird?

-Who Framed Roger Rabbit? I haven't seen that movie in a long time and I forget.

-Why is my cornbread so good? It's just cornbread. But it really is ridiculously good.

-Why are shorts with stuff written on the ass so comfortable?

-Why is IM so damn addicting?

-Which one of my next door neighbor's parents suddenly became prone to letting him have a party EVERY night? Are they going deaf?

-Why am I such a loser? Oops, that slipped in.

-Where does Snapple grow snapricots and can I buy the snapricot field and sell the snapricots or maybe make snapricot jam?

-Why do I think I can make everyone feel better with food? Food doesn't make me feel better. You'd really think I'd be fat by now but I'm not. It's funny but buying useless clothes I'll never wear makes me feel better. Like my little black dress. :)

-Why is Djibouti the capital of Djibouti? You'd think with such a creative name for a country they could think of an equally creative capital. Like Ikissa (sorry). Or maybe Hackensack or Kalamazoo, East Ass or Central Bumblefuck.

-Why have I not shut up yet?

Yes so I think that's enough of that. Goofing around and being a dork only works for so long. There's still that dull ache. I keep asking myself what I want and I keep walking away without a real answer. I just want to be happy, but there has to be a means to do so. A path. "The Road Not Taken" and the like. I feel sometimes like I took the nice, pretty, easy path somewhere in the past and that somewhere along the way it turned into a tiny rope ladder up Mount Everest. Why is Robert Frost somewhere laughing at me right now? Poetry should have directions. With lots of pictures. See? Happy Mangofarmer walking in the rocks and brambles. Sad Mangofarmer walking on the pretty sidewalk with a border of daisies on either side.

Bah. It's probably bedtime or something. But I just want one little piece of pie. And a long talk. Or a listen on my part, more likely.

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