THE FRIED SYNAPSE

Spent the evening listening to medical histories. Fascinating, hearing what can go wrong if you don't head to the ER when it's time. But these are all interesting things I cannot recount at work, because the senile old rightwing gits in the backroom are sensitive types who easily turn green.

Told the Texan that the hardest thing for his state's National Guard contingent posted to Chicago was they couldn't find pizza OR fritos there. At all! He took me seriously.
Oh, the hardship! He supports his boys one hundred percent.

Mother Pecker done gave birth to an idiot.


The retired member of the judicial branch was there today. His wife probably needed a break. The Irishman and the bald troublemaker were aso there for a while, but unlike the retired judicial drooge it's fine to leave them by themselves, they don't whine and bellyache unless provoked. Judicial Boy, like many folks in the legal fields has a need to be heard.


Here is a picture of one of my nerves. It looks like an Autumn tree because it has no more leaves to give. It is barren. Left alone, it would start reviving in a few months.

This drawing started off as a study of trees. But I got caught up in glowing balls of colour, and lost interest in developing the hillocks which are, crudely, still a main part of the composition. Think vegetal matter, slowly decomposing, with crawly things in the cracks and crevices.

Nowadays I speak to them rarely. Hello and goodbye.

They are uninteresting, but quite convinced of the otherwise.
And their repetitious disputations are circular and jejune.



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