radfrac_archive_full

Argh. At work in the morning I'm lonely and want to email/lj/fb, but I ought to work. By the time I get home I'm tired and antisocial. Stupid paradoxical existence.

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Last night, inlandsea and I bravely broke away from the television to take a twilight walk through the park. Even though I had a headache, Nature triumphed.

The ducks at one pond had all gone to sleep, but the ducks at what inlandsea pointed out much be the party pond were still swimming around and turning upside down to wave their legs in the air. Just like university.

We ended up, of course, at the Beacon Drive-In for chocolate-dipped cones. I read they were good for your heart. Then we walked down to the water, eating the ice cream and talking philosophy.

"It's not very chocolatey." she said.
"No." I said. "More sort of waxy."
"I know they put carnuba wax in some chocolate."
"Yeah this is... what this is, is it's a sort of a wax-dipped cone."
"Well, pff. I could do that at home."

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chromemagpie noted this "Gay Bomb", and yes, I'm scandalized, just like you. I'd think it was a joke except it looked real.

Here's the thing, though. I really want one. A bomb that makes people queer. It's almost a fixation. I can't stop thinking about how great it would be. Without regard for ethics or compassion, I would drop it on... everybody.

Now you see me as I am. I'm frightening, under my mild-mannered exterior. You know, mwahaha and so forth. We all have our points of fracture. There is mine. A strange radiation.

Does anyone remember the "Nude Bomb"?

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Alas, there will be no entry on my part in the Monday Summer Fiction Contest again this year. Nothing really came to me for the title "No-Fun City". Nothing fun to write, anyway.

Dammit. I could have worked in the Gay Bomb.

{rf}