After one hour of sleep and a fitful morning nap, I am officially looped out. Maybe it was the six pieces of Mr. Pizza Veggie. Or the alternating freezing and thawing going on last night that sent the house into tantrums. Maybe I was excited to read my new Barnes and Noble purchases.
But, alas. I'm betting it was Carnivale.
I have serious issues with distorted representations of life. Clowns, marionettes, muppets, claymation. I've never seen Fraggle Rock or The Dark Crystal. Beaker scares the hell out of me, as does the Swedish Chef (he has real hands for chrissakes). But at the top of a shamefully long list is dolls. With their damned slack eyes and damned pallid complexions. I used to hide them under pillows, face them at the walls, pitch them at my grandparents in offended rage.
And Carnivale is inexplicably bursting with them.
And now I see them round every corner in the apartment.
No comments:
Post a Comment