The Natatorium

An emporium of oddities from around the world, complete with somewhat informative plaques that almost never match the item they are meant to be describing.

Monday, February 28, 2005

No, *Your* Face is a Wussy Chicken Banana

I can feel a story growing inside me, but I have *absolutely* *no* *idea* what it is. This is a new experience for me. Usually when I have an idea, I have, you know, an IDEA... this time, it's like I have an idea that I will have an idea... something is about to break the surface of my consciousness. Interesting.

Have had trouble remembering my dreams lately. I know I've been having them, but I can't remember them. I get flashes now and then, sometimes in the middle of the day. Perhaps *they* hold this secret idea. I need to be able to inspect my mind... a brain detective. Like Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind ("bookslave, for like, five years now...") Or maybe it's just better to let said idea marinate until it is ready to come out and meet the big bad world.

'Tis frusterating, though. It's like something I can't remember, but I've never membered it the first place. It's on the tip of my tongue, though I've never said it before. Maybe I'm lapsing into my fight-club-esque double-life routine again. I am jack's repressed subconscious.

This idea had better be good. When I find out what it is, I'll let you know.


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