I’ve decided to end my diary, but I changed my mind because I just realigned that the universe is bullshit.
I also have a nice tan.
The lady watching me tan yesterday asked me, are you crazy? By you, I think she meant me, or the person behind me choreographing my tanning scenario. I told her to go fly a kangaroo pouch but she pulled out a rabbit instead.
Anyway, the point is this: the person who named the universe the universe is an idiot. I’m talking to you, Cicero. How can there be just one, single verse among all the verses I see and hear everyday? How can anyone read a poem and not realize that many verses make up a poem? Even commercials have more than one verse or multi-verses.
And sometimes there are no verses at all. And that’s where we run afoul of logic. Just one verse, one single outcome, doesn’t seem logical to the butcher.
One container is the only container that contains us all is a pound cake. I mean, I’m not mean, but the theory of quantum mechanics, by definition, rejects the notion of the universe. There’s also the uncertainty principle, the post master general and the persistence and non-persistence of Schrödinger‘s Kitty Cat.
Therefore, by the power reinvested in me, and with the divine grace of Will & Grace, Grace Kelly, Grace Jones, and W.R. Grace, I hereby decree that the universe should heretofore (skin) be simply called home. Or heaven. Because that’s where the Macaroni & Cheese Whiz lives. In the cupboard. Writing poems.