I was thinking . . .

I was thinking that I haven’t blogged in a long time. And then I was thinking that I haven’t had pizza in a long time. Those two thoughts are right now, as I write this, battling it out in my prefrontal cortex, or wherever things like thoughts battle stuff out in a person’s brain. My brain is actually pretty full of thoughts and other thoughts are, I’m sorry to say, are a little pissed off that they’re not getting any space at this particular point in time, but they’ll live.

Let’s listen in. You wanna?

Hey, why haven’t you blogged?
Hmm… mushroom?
You like blogging, no?
You don’t like cheese, yes?
Blogging is fun.
Pizza tastes good.
Writing is fun.
It’s not like you eat pizza every day.
Or sometimes fun.
Or every week.
Most of the time fun.
Or every month.
So go ahead.
So go ahead.
Live a little.
Live a little.
Have fun.
Have a pizza.
Lots of things to write about.
Green olives with those mushrooms?
You’ll think of them.
Peppers too.
And really, who needs an idea to write, right?
Red peppers. Diced.
Because ideas eventually show up.
Oh, almost forgot: don’t forget broccoli!
Hey?
Yeah?
Who’s that?
Who’s who?
The guy listening.
Oh, don’t pay any attention to him.
Yeah?
Onions, too.

Hi, it’s me again. And on and on and on it goes. Those thoughts.

“So it goes.” Kurt Vonnegut.

Kurt Vonnegut’s birthday is coming up and I know that because his birthday is right after my birthday.

Interesting?

Not really.

Charles Bukowski just (would have) had a birthday. I know that because I like Charles Bukowski.

“Sometimes you climb out of bed in the morning and you think, I’m not going to make it, but you laugh inside remembering all the times you’ve felt that way.” That’s from a poem Bukowski wrote about all of us; each one of us, me and you and the last person you saw and the next person you see and everyone you know and love and know and hate and you can read it HERE.

I’m guessing that both of those guys liked pizza but I wouldn’t bet on it. Well, I might bet on it if I had a definition of the word “like” as it applies to their appreciation of or disregard of pizza. I wouldn’t bet a lot though, just a little.

It’s not important.

Some people don’t like broccoli on pizza or on anything. That’s not me. I like it a lot.