I knew what I was going to post . . . right up to when I was going to log on. So I did other stuff . . . and remembered! . . . and forgot again . . . and by now it seems like it has to be a beautiful effing post, like as witty as Wilde and as magical as Tolkien and as deeply inspiring as, I dunno, fucking Mother Teresa. Like the Dalai Lama of blog posts.
Which is way too much pressure. Especially since I remembered I was going to post something short (hah! you doubt me! but it could happen) about unicorns. Actually about a decapitated unicorn head on a pike.
Oh well, here goes . . .
So good news! We had big storms with lots of thunder and hail and heavy winds. And now the decapitated unicorn head on a pike that would creepily turn to watch me over the neighbor's privacy fence is gone. I don't know if the neighbors took it inside to protect it from the storm or if it blew away. The neighbors are fine. We don't talk much because of the privacy fence and because I barely talk to people I know and love so I don't go out of my way to talk to relative strangers except at work. Really I've only talked to the woman. And she seems nice enough. She's definitely a good neighbor in that she doesn't try to talk to me often, just when we need to confer on the demon weeds in no man's land between her privacy fence and my chain link fence. Anyway, I hope she took the head inside for safe-keeping during the storms since she is nice and presumably likes it. And I hope she keeps it inside because it really was very creepy the way it would slowly turn turn to watch me whenever I went in my backyard. I don't spend much time back there until it gets hot.
Imagine chillin' in your cheap inflatable pool, eyes closed behind your sunglasses, iced margarita in one hand.
You lean back, letting your head rest on the side of the pool.
You open your eyes . . .
decapitated unicorn head on a pike
also the evil weeds of no man's land
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