Like a contagious plague, pregnancy is spreading through several circles of my friends. This is similar to the plague of engagements that spread a few years ago. It's creepy. There is talk of belly bands and loose shirts. There are stories of ucky diapers and the general displaying of boobs in action. It's creepy. I was thinking about this today as I was hanging out with various friends in various states of infection. I didn't share any glasses with them, washed my hands frequently, and made sure not to touch my hands to my face.
I really have nothing more to say about it. It's creepy.
What else is creepy is alarms. I thought about this today, too. Car alarms, burgler alarms, alarm clocks, smoke alarms, and onward. We are indeed constantly alerted to many different things. I visited a house once upon a time in a gated community (speaking of creepy). The people had multiple burgler alarms and car alarms. I remember thinking, "Seriously? Like a burgler is going to navigate through this hellish display of human conformity of a housing development and seek out your Toyota and flat screen t.v. to steal? Seriously?" It was a community surrounded by a huge fence for god's sake. I think people would notice a t.v. sailing over the fence and the video cameras would catch a suspicious driver leaving in your car. Of all the things to be afraid of, I pick catching pregnancy way over getting robbed in a gated community.
Moral of today's story: you don't have to like pink milk. I do. It's strawberry-flavored goodness on a cold, dark autumn evening.
An Erinku:
squirrel, you
dart, stop, scamper
on the road
just move already.
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