music: "Island," The Ben Taylor Band"
My mom doesn't like my creativity. She says there isn't any point in talking about something that isn't real. This came up the other day when I mentioned that I was going to sneak into North Korea and take down all those bad mf's, setting the people free. She became wildly irritated, pointing out that such talk isn't likely to do anyone any good.
She'd love our games of twenty questions:
Jason: so ask away
Marjorie: is it blue?
Jason: no
Marjorie: is it too heavy for a midget to lift?
Jason: lol, no
Marjorie: is it manufactured in a canadian sweatshop?
Jason: lol, no
Marjorie: anytime here jenn
Marjorie: we're up to 3
Jenn: oh ok well
Jenn: is it square?
Jason: no
Marjorie: if you walked backwards across wisconsin on your hands, would you see it?
Jason: possibly
Jason: so yes
Marjorie: hmmmmm interesting
Jenn: that could be anything
Marjorie: i think i know what it is but i'll refrain
Marjorie: onto my next question
Marjorie: does it smell like a moldy orange?
Jason: no
Marjorie: does it have to do with kinky sex?
Jason: yes
Marjorie: that's 7
Marjorie: your turn, jenn
Jenn: umm....
Jenn: is it round?
Jason: you know it dont you maggy
Jason: yes
Marjorie: well i might
Marjorie: can i guess?
Jason: sure
Marjorie: it's a giant talking pinapple brandishing a mongolian machete whilst taking down the entire greek mafia in one fell swoop.
Marjorie: am i right or am i right
Jason: yes, right on the dot
Jenn: wow good job
Jenn: i would've never guessed that
Marjorie: thank you!! is it my turn now?
Creativity is what keeps my mind turning. If I couldn't make up ridiculous scenarios and eccentric characters, what would I have then?