Someone on the Internet asked: "Any
any Thanksgiving arguments yet?"
"Let me know :)"
*very short pause*
"More immediate concerns, I'm afraid," I replied at once.
Almost--automatically. Or wait, is this semi? Semi-automatically? Why is the narrator holding a gun? I don't need this. Put this away.
"Ppl want to know: where *exactly* did that D12 roll off?
(This is the brand of quarrel over here)
Did it roll off into the couch recess, or
into a whole other dimension?"
You see, these are the arguments going on right now.
*They* want me to move from my position of comfort,
my hard-fought prestige, my kittykat-like purrmobile.
*They* want to claim victory based off of some sad
lonely piece of plastic so lodged in such dark recess,
I want them to at least imagine first, the possibility that
the D12 is not there.
It is in several distinct states.
I want everyone to, before I shift my ass,
first contemplate the many possibilities
in all their full ripeness.
(e.g. the possibility that I might win) <-- no, don't allow this into the final piece! ;)