Sunday, February 20, 2005

We must speak of Ireland

I'm pretty there was some sort of mild hallucinogen in the bheda-ko chhoyla I ate on Friday. According to my wife, I stood up in the middle of the night and pressed my face against the wall for about 10 minutes. Then, I walked into the main room, sat down very rigidly on the couch and said to one of the African masks on the wall: "We must speak of Ireland."

I remember none of this.

But then, it could have nothing to do with Nepali food. This morning I found my clothes from the night before laid out on the dining room floor in that style that my mom would lay out my clothes when I was a kid. On the bathroom floor there was a bottle of antiseptic and one of my rugby mouth guards wrapped up in the chain of my pocket watch. I have absolutely no idea what that's all about.

Hooray. I'm going insane.


bryce said...

Where can I find some?

Chris Cope said...

Bryce as in the Bryce that I know? Hey hey!

Greg said...

that sounds like some good stuff

and damn...i hadn't seen the new blogger comment system...not bad...