Lying around on a snowy evening

Kurt Vonnegut and Pumpkin.

                                               

         Because It’s All Material

My intestines went on holiday. Food passes through them in a tsunami carrying leftover debris. It’s a microbial cleanse. I should be happy. Eupeptics pay health spas major bucks for this experience. Otherwise, I’m in fine fettle. The sun shines. The dog romps. Optimism reigns as long as I don’t venture too far from the loo.

The etymology of looky-loos, those with a prurient interest in purgations; specifically, the private lives of others — the demographic of the memoir market. Let purgations lie. That’s what I always say. Lying and damn lying purgations.

Maybe purgatory is just a WC for what your soul doesn’t need.

                                                                                                                                   ~ 01/27/2014