Exhibition: Bigfoot! (a.k.a. The Sasquatch Museum.) It’s not very close, but it is by far the closest of this nation’s many Bigfoot and Sasquatch related collections.
1.) When getting on an elevator with strangers, I like to look at the little inspection placard with consternation and say, “Oh no… oh no, oh no!” When someone asks what’s the problem, I point to the inspector’s name and say, [for example] “John Smith is a hack. He wouldn’t know a frayed cable from a firehose. WE’RE DOOMED!”
2.) Sometimes I’ll stare at the grates on a city sidewalk. When someone asks whether I lost my keys, I’ll say, “No I saw a Leprechaun run down there with a pot of gold. I’m waiting for it to come back out so that I can murder and rob it.”
3.) Alternatively, I stare up at the sky, and when someone stops to see what I’m looking at, I say, “It’s a lovely day to be hurtling through space at two million kilometers per hour, isn’t it?”
5.) I like to skip the number four, and when someone asks why I say because it’s bad luck in China and Japan because the number four is pronounced the same as death. When the person points out that I’m not in China or Japan, I confidently bark, “That’s your opinion!” and rapidly walk off as their consternation and / or infuriation grows.
Everything except fully autonomic bodily functions could be done differently. That’s the nature of human creativity.
Yes. Frenetic and chaotic creativity.
Did a little dance… and so on.
Performed? Not yet. (Unless you count “Crowd Member Milling About [with No Lines] – #7” in an Elementary School Christmas Pageant.) Given a speech? Yes. Unless it is completely impromptu, it is nowhere near the top of my list of horrifying life events.
I never met a one I didn’t like.
1.) Remaining incognito. (I conceal my identity by being no one of interest.)
2.) Calling animals. (They do not come, but I maintain that I'm effective at getting their attention. They give perplexed looks and seem to be thinking, "Why is that dumb-ass human making strange noises?")
3.) Slipping on ice. (It's effortless to me.)
4.) Conveying an air of indifference. (At any given moment, you'd probably conclude that I don't give a shit.)
5.) Eating rotisserie chicken. (It's not pleasant to watch, but I leave not a scrap of meat. It's like a sun-bleached skeleton when I'm done with it.)
A Jetpack and Rollerblades.
I assume just a little more of all the things I already do, with a substantial amount of that time being spent in rest.
The thought, “If I didn’t have to rest I could do so much more” is one of modern life’s most cancerous modes of thinking.
Didn’t we all learn during the pandemic that when commutes and other travel / in-person time obligations go away, life fluidly swells to fill the void. Like having to learn Zoom, etc.
Life gives no free lunches, learn to live with it.
Tiger Riding for Beginners 