Interdependence Day

Hi. I'm taking my the advice of my eldest brother, who's considerably shrewder and more savvy than I am, and posting daily. In full disclosure, I'm doing so begrudgingly.

The humidity that's hindered us―permeating everything that we do or don't touch, muddling and fuddling my erstwhile will to make meaning of and from a purportedly green pasture―is a thing to which I refer (with faux-fondness) as "the Soup of the Day."

Oh gosh now it's later and the humidity has at last abated and we ate a delicioys meal and i worked in the yard until the mosquitos emerged and I hit my left hand in the exact same place quice.

perhaps you're puzzled at the sight of "quice"; i, too, would be so. but it's a recently coined (and, until now, privately used) word meaning, basically "happened or happening four times." like once or twice or thrice.

In days of yore (1997, so ardently idealized now, but was actually the same bankrupt and exceptionalist pepsi-fizz gutter as that in which nearly all of us flouncy problem-inventors reside, doubly deluded, to this very day), my friend Jason and I devised this numbering system for the amount of times that an event has occured or will occur. When I'm not exhausted, I will gladly list them all for you.

Just now, I thought that someone in our piddly-but-pretentious village had discharged a firearm. Then I remembered that it's the Bob-Seger-Michelob-Weber-Grill holiday of holidays, and I realized that it's likely bedtime.

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