Ha ha ha ha ha

It is said that the mere experience of laughter will generate mirth. As the last fortnight has left me beleaguered, I'm gonna start laughing despite my inclination to fret. I will chronicle the results of this, my abjectly informal mockery of science, throughout the day.

I will start by laughing. Here goes:

Forced. It's 8:30 a.m.

Update to follow.

10:00 a.m.

All that I can manage is a snicker that sounds a bit like a scoff. Too much tedium. I did laugh at breakfast. Now, I am feeling amuseder at last night's Desmond after-dinner attempt to describe an animal ("It's like a tiger; it has like a lemony face [SQUINCHES] it's like, ...short and all sweating and everything, like covered in drops of water, and there are some scales on it and it looks out of its shell at you like... [GESTURES TO APPEAR SNEAKY AND MALEVOLENT]. What's the name of it?") that turned out to be the armadillo. "That is the BEST game!" Molly exclaimed, and I agree with her.

subjective observations

FROM EARLY JULY

every time an opportunity--for conviviality, economic stability, right livelihood, whatever-the-eff rambunctious semi-adventure--appears, i have a burst of energy that is, all too often, not commensurate with the opportunity. often, my enthusiasm is utterly unwarranted, and is squandered as a result. it's like electrifying an inanimate object and expecting it to come to life in a unique way, only to see and smell it melting/burning/vaporizing. i become exhausted, and might even feign indignation, but the problem is entirely my own.


you would never really know by the "way" that it all-too-frequently "feels," but it is july. if this current morass of weather no-no-nonsense were in any way retroactive, then stevie wonder's (1st sellout) record "hotter than july" could reasonably bear the title of "room temperature."