I've reached the point where I can no longer read, or read comfortably without my glasses, but my middle distance vision remains fine. Or so I told myself, until I saw this sign on the door of a frozen yogurt shop...
ADDENDUM: I see The Bloggess had a similar experience, but at least hers didn't involve a hydrocephalic canary with a profound speech impediment and a tendency to make product claims that are clearly not supported by independent taste tests, given that whole cloaca issue.
James Thurber has a wonderful story about the magical world he saw when he lost his glasses. I'm pretty sure it's in A Thurber Carnival, but I'm at work and can't look it up.
Even more disturbing, Friz Freling said Tweety is male, although gender identity seemed pretty fluid in Warner Brothers cartoons.
I find that the confusion that comes with aging is easier to deal with if you accept that life is becoming a constant surrealist landscape. If you're so inclined, it can even save you a fortune in hallucinogens.
Doc, those hallucinogen farmers have families, too.
accept that life is becoming a constant surrealist landscape
I think I see what you're saying -- less Warner Brothers, more Krazy Kat.
I dunno, Scott -- what about that identity crisis WB classic with the bulldog, the cat, and the 2 mice, where all of them at the end are chasing the wrong species, and suddenly freeze-frame in attitudes of utter mania? You know the one I mean.
I do, Li'l, but my therapist won't let me watch that one anymore.
I read it as "Lemon Creme Cock". So, we're in the same boat, Scott!
The Looooove Boat.
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