Why can’t I be a Taurus or a Gemini or…?
Why was I born a Cancer? Why do I have to feel things so deeply? Why do I have to walk around with all this passion and idealism only to run into people who don’t feel it I do? It would be so nice to be a Taurus…stubborn, or a Libra…balanced or, hell anything but Cancer. And why the hell a crab? Why? I can think of plenty of other critters way better to represent than a fucking crab! I’m a moody, manic, moonchild walking fucking melodrama and on top of that…I’m a crab.
Who was the first person to eat a crab? Or a lobster? What was he thinking…”mmmm, that looks good, I think I’ll catch it, kill it and eat it…” I mean…I like the taste of crab but, I sure as shit wouldn’t be the first to go scurrying around a beach with my spear salivating at the thought of digging into that? It was a dare, I know it. Cavemen brothers, Gorf and Foonk were walking along one early evening feeling mighty hungry and mighty disappointed in having failed to bring down the wooly mammoth they’d spent the last winter tracking. Had they caught him, they would have had more than enough to last…hell, this summer evening they’d be snacking on mammoth jerky but no…stupid Gorf got scared at the last minute and the mammoth took chase when he smelled the caveman’s fear. To make matters worse, instead of throwing the spear at the mammoth charging him…Gorf ran like a bitch. So, Foonk was out to get him…but how, how, how? Aha! There, walking sideways towards the ocean…a giant crab! Foonk grunted at his brother…, “I triple domesticated dog dare you…catch that crab and eat it!” Gorf, desperate to get back into his brother’s good graces hesitated but…took the dare. Even back then…a guy couldn’t pass on a triple dog dare. So…he lost a hand, but, he killed the crab and that night it was discovered that crab dipped in butter was pretty damn tasty. Now, crab with mammoth steak…oh…that’s taking it to a whole new level…
dammit…can’t sleep and now…i’ve got a craving for steak and crab legs…i think i’ll go lay down and see if my children will allow me the luxury of sleeping these last few hours before the alarm goes off…it occurs to me that since the birth of my three year old…it’s been at least a good two and a half years since I’ve slept thru the night. i don’t remember what it was like to sleep past 7 on a Sunday…i think i’m going crazy…hence these weird ass blogs…and just the other day their dad had the gall, while he was writing me my child support check, to ask me what i was contributing? he who has them one, maybe two nights…(nights? picks em up at 3 and starts calling me at 5 wondering when i’m coming home) a week…
i’m so tired…is there anyplace that’ll deliver steak and crab at…(FUCK!)….almost two in the morning?
