I keep blank paper next to my bed, because sometimes I’ll think of something while I’m falling asleep, or I’ll wake up with just fragments of a dream that I don’t want to lose. I’ve managed to save some really good ideas this way. Of course, sometimes, like Friday night, I save things like this:
The most annoying thing? When I can live on visible light alone. When you can barely see something, there I am, humping your eye. I am everywheres.
I’m a genius. I wasn’t drunk either. I felt sick all day, Friday, so no drinking.
So, since I write a lot (well, I write some) I have configured my apartment so that there is nearly always a notebook or something within reach so that if I have an idea I can write it down. Now, as anyone who does this knows, frequently the ideas that are had and recorded aren’t good ideas at all.
Skip to the present. Last night I had an idea, so I did my usual routine: stop talking in mid sentence, stare into space for a few minutes, grab the closest notebook and jot it down. I happened to grab the ‘next to the bed’ book, since I was in bed. The note that I wrote is inconsequential (although it is pretty good, I’ll let you know if it comes to something). The funny part is what I found on the first page of the book, roughly translated here from the heiroglyphs I originally transcribed it in:
For MAD! ?
Poop jokes gone wrong
a few (four, maybe 6?) toilet jokes carried to the extreme
some terrible calamity ensues.
Explosions, motherinlaws [e.d. that’s clearly one word] splattered in dung
Employ [I think] lots of synonyms
See kids, this is what happens when you drink. I’ve never had a problem with a motherinlaw.