it's strange to me to know...it will probably be there forever. one stupid incident in college 5 years ago, a flying pencil, and now look. i've got a piece of that moment embedded in my skin forever. it's like a tattoo to mark a most insignificant event. it will be there when i'm 80. what will i tell my grandchildren about it? i doubt they will care, but i will tell them the story anyway, with the 8x10 color glossy photographs with the circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one. i will tell it in four-part harmony.
"yes, it was midday in the CBC hub. i was sitting on the floor with none other than the famed artist, Mandy. she was different in those days, she associated with the little people. when whaddaya know, here comes -- ok, this was back in the day before everything was digital and technological --a pencil. a mechanical one. i know, i know, it seems so archaic. it came flying at me that-a way, wrapped itself around a yield sign. wait, no, that's not my story. what it did do was stick me in the pinky. that, children, is why pencils have been banned in 47 states. think of that when you're tapping around on your fancy computers."
talk about anticlimactic.
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