Friday, December 6, 2013
Every time I use one I wonder how I'd organize the last week in life of these lightbulbs. Further connection: how often the shape of any washroom could not determined until the needs of other rooms had been met. Don't tempt me, go study the matter more. (Unrelated idea: Nevertheless, the untold story.) In grade eight, living by Mad magazine, we thought girls' cans were lined with contraptions, drawn in a Dave Berg line. We didn't want, and did want, to go in there. I could also tell the story of how the women's can at Emma Lake had a bathtub and the men's didn't. I made a fuss, 98% fake. A few nights later, they took me in there with a bath poured, tapedeck in action, candles and scents, booze. While they party out by the sinks, I spend my hottest ever time in a bath. I can't think of anything to need. How true is such a story? Not sure.