THE INNER FEEDING FRENZY

My home computer is on the fritz. Which forces me into a coffeeshop where two elderly dudes are avidly, nay, enthusiastically, discussing sharks. And shark attacks. And the shark diet (which includes seals). And a woman getting over her shyness by practicing how to be a seal.
You can see where this is going, can't you?
Lots of colourful details.

Perhaps I should forego dinner tonight? For some reason I don't have much of an appetite.

Although a bit of green herring would be nice .....

That's the Dutchman in me.

Or the seal.


Doesn't every one have an inner seal they need to coddle sometimes? Before the inner shark rips it to shreds. Or maybe that happens when you're asleep, and it regenerates every morning when you wake up.
Defective people probably do not have inner seals.


Now they are discussing apartment house fires that kill multiple people.
No, I don't think they're plotting anything, they're just old folks shooting the breeze. In a coffeeshop where the counter girl just yelled at a street person to "get out, get out, get out!"

Being without a home computer is like being a dog with a medical collar on.
I can't lick my own butt, but I am more keenly aware of butts.
Butts, the concept. Butts, existential need.
Butt, a commonality.





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