"Can I have some shaving cream?"
"Why do they call it 'shaving'?"
"Where do the whiskers go when you shave them?"
"Why don’t you grow a beard?"
"Did you have a beard before you were married to mum?"
"What would happen if you went to jail for 100 years?"
"What would happen if you went to jail for a thousand years?"
"Is a thousand years a long time?"
"Can I have some shaving cream?"
This was among some stream-of-consciousness musing along the lines of what would happen if the cat developed super-powers*
*The conclusion reached was that this would probably be a bad thing for all concerned.
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9 comments:
I can't picture you without that beard, Ramon
Squib, the Mrs has made it very clear that the return of the beard (or indeed, any beard-like derivative such as the walrus moustache) is not to be countenanced.
A smart woman, your Mrs.
Ramon, you haven't answered the question...is a thousand years a long time?
I believe my answer was "yes Boy, a thousands years is a very long time".
What made it even more disconcerting is that he was sitting on the toilet at the time.
On a related topic, if he wants to get a feel for eternity, here's some of my favourite lyrics which aptly describes it:
Every thousand years
This metal sphere
Ten times the size of Jupiter
Floats just a few yards past the earth
You climb on your roof
And take a swipe at it
With a single feather
Hit it once every thousand years
Till you've worn it down
To the size of a pea
Yeah I'd say that's a long time
But it's only half a blink
In the place you're gonna be
Where you gonna be
Where will you spend eternity
I've gotta be perfect from now on
I've gotta be perfect starting now
Isn't that from Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man Bob?
Indeed Ramon, adapted by Built to Spill in their song Randy Describes Eternity.
I have two guidelines for what makes facial hair acceptable: (1) It shouldn't have bits of crud hanging off it and (2) it shouldn't be growing on me (genes, don't fail me now).
"What would happen if you went to jail for 100 years?"
I imagine they'd have to hang an air freshener in the cell before the next chap used it, for starters.
My three-year-old nephew is a matryoshka doll of questions. The other day he asked me something about fish and I ended up trying to explain the gravitational relationship between Earth and The Moon. And while it's nice to see that he's curious and imaginative and all, I find some of the stuff he picks up at day-care a bit concerning. Like the game where he waves a twig at his younger brother and shouts, "Die, stupid baby! I'm magic-ed you dead!"
Kids, eh?
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