Never a good sign.
Oct. 30th, 2006 05:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
featherynscaleMonday begins like this: a minivan and a disproportionate number of cops off on the side of the highway. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
triadruid observes this tableau. "Gotta watch those criminal minivans," he says.
"Could be full of ninjas. You can fit a lot more ninjas in a minivan than a Civic," I say. At this point, I feel the rising waters of the absurd, and make a grab for something anchoring. "Or dope. You could fit a lot of dope in a minivan." But it's too late. I start to giggle madly. "Or, you know, doped-up ninjas."
He gives me that even, solid, grounding look. It is to no avail. "Cops hate stoned ninjas," he says, "It's a lot of paperwork, and they giggle."
This is how Monday begins. And it's not gotten much more rational since.
triadruid observes this tableau. "Gotta watch those criminal minivans," he says."Could be full of ninjas. You can fit a lot more ninjas in a minivan than a Civic," I say. At this point, I feel the rising waters of the absurd, and make a grab for something anchoring. "Or dope. You could fit a lot of dope in a minivan." But it's too late. I start to giggle madly. "Or, you know, doped-up ninjas."
He gives me that even, solid, grounding look. It is to no avail. "Cops hate stoned ninjas," he says, "It's a lot of paperwork, and they giggle."
This is how Monday begins. And it's not gotten much more rational since.
