Tuesday, January 22, 2008
I ran out of propane for my BBQ last night (no steak for me) and have been trying to remember to pick some up on the way home. Somehow this has gotten me to the point humming the Eric Clapton tune Cocaine with the word propane substituted. Yes it's stupid, and kind of annoying too, but once it's started, it can't be stopped. And I figure I've got about a 50-50 shot of forgetting to stop on the way home which will mean I'll have that running through my head tomorrow too. This is just a small glimpse into the horror that is the inner workings of my mind. Good times.