April 16th, 2005

children of dune - leto 1

(no subject)

This Thing

I am apparently less than ten minutes from a maximum security prison.

This is not just totally new information to me. Wait. It is totally new information, but it is also highly intersting in that way of wondering if I actually inhabit this plane of existence at all. Cause that is a lot of prison to miss.

Let me say it again.

A. Maximum. Security. Prison. Less than Ten. Minutes. Away.

This revelation occurred during the Great Trampoline Journey of Last Weekend, when my sister helpfully pointed out a spot in the middle of a very nearby town that looked like any wooded midtown area and said, "There's a prison there."

Me: "Huh?"

But lo. Apparently, there is. That or five vaguely neutral observors are all plotting against me, and while I'd usually go with that theory, I'm kind of entranced with the idea of it. Cause it has been there for years. And I did not know.

Again. Maximum. Security. Prison. Huh. Sooo did not see that coming out of nowhere.

This and That

Oooh. I fought the hotlinker and I *won*. The hotlinker was eleven. Somehow, that makes my victory not as fun. *sighs* On the other hand, svmadelyn was my guinea pig to test whether it was working and she was good at it. And we both wondered what on earth she was doing on my Love and Lust page. Cause--no. Do not want to think about that. That's three years older than my son.

...okay, now I am starting to sound like Dr Laura.

Speaking of which, does anyone but me, when listening to Dr. Laura, feel inexpressibly brilliant and competent by comparsion to teh people who call in?

Right. Work with me on this one.

It was not my fault, but the radio was there and I couldn't turn it off. In the course of about an hour, the calls ranged from scary to--well, scary.

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Okay, so thought. I'm bored. I need something new to do. Any suggestions? Trampolining until your legs hurt is great for working off all those Hershey's Kisses you've been guzzling by the bag all week, but the third time you land on your ass trying to show off to your son and he convulses on teh ground laughing too hard to talk? You sort of lose your taste for it.

ETA: HAHAHA! SO NOT MAXIMUM SECURITY! MINIMUM! And Mid, whatever that means. WHEE! I DO NOT NEED TO SUDDENLY DEVELOP A NEW IRRATIONAL TERROR!

Okay, seriously, I need something to do here. I'm goggling *prisons* for God's sake.