Today I rebegin the process of actually writing in this blog, one of my second-year-new-me aspirations. Among others:
-bathing slightly more regularly
-cleaning the catbox more regularly
-drinking Borgio less regularly
-firmly drawing the line at 5 English clubs
-wearing heels to work, even in the muddymuds
-not writing any more mean stuff on this blog
Also today: I saw someone, while dressed to the Mongolian nines, floss her teeth with her hair.
This one is what we call “about Skittles level” normal.
A human and a semi-anthropomorphic (arms, legs, no face) avocado sit side-by-side on the beach of a desert island. On the right lies the splintered remains of a raft. Perched on a palm tree above, a vulture watches intently.
Closeup on where the avocado’s face would be. Beads of avocado oil collect on his (her? maybe.) leathery skin.
We see the human from the avocado’s POV, staring out to sea. The image shimmers and becomes a mirage, the human transformed into a hotdog.
Closeup on the human’s (fine, assholes, the 20ish white male’s) face. Beads of sweat collect and drip down his brow. His bloodshot eyes slide over to look in the avocado’s direction.
From the man’s POV, we see the avocado, also staring out to sea. Again a mirage replaces the image of the whole avocado, and we see the fruit sliced open, and salted, revealing its light green flesh and smooth pit.
Voice over: “Avocado: your friend ’til the very end.”
Maybe more “Nutrigrain Level” here. Better.
An avocado shines alluringly against an ivory background. Herbal Essences. Soft New Age fluting. Slowly, the avocado opens to reveal a naked woman curled up inside. An invisible wind blows her hair back and she turns to face the camera.
Naked Woman, crooning: “Avocados. Like crawling back into the womb.”