5 7 5

I'm re-blogging the haiku game post - it's obscene, obviously, and self-disclosing in some wrong way whatever, but first of all I can't give a shit about that because I'm not sure that I do in fact give a shit about any of that (probably not), and second of all it's a pretty good game as an alternative to the endlessly nerve wracking rocky relationship "what are you thinking?" game, which is mostly just insecurity masquerading as interpersonal curiosity and about as much fun as a mental wave of nausea.  The haiku game goes like this:  Fighting the urge to ask any (stupid) question at all (like fighting the urge to smoke a cigarette only different), you just throw out a line or two or a title or whatever instead.  If you have any kids around screaming at each other or coworkers yammering on about something you could care less about at some required meeting, it's also useful because counting syllables drowns that right out.  Like this:

I'm diverse within myself (7 syllables)

Unfortunately, all I could think of in 5 syllables was I need more coffee but I texted it to Aaron (who is most likely elbow deep in somebody's corroded arteries with his ex-mistress somewhere nearby throwing shade his way, making us both half nervous wrecks around every damn weekday as if work didn't always suck by half anyways without blood and ass everywhere on top of it) and in less than a minute he texted back reverse oreo (?) and I busted out laughing just as the next meeting was starting and everyone looked at me like "what?" and I wanted to ask 'what is absurd and vaguely racist/classist/sexist and even better if it's obscene and 5 syllables, anybody got anything?' but I said 'voting day - anybody see that castrating hogs ad?' instead, i.e. speaking of political absurdity :/  Then I got distracted because I grew up castrating hogs is also 7 syllables and seems to beg for some kind of poetic S&M comeuppance