the world is your acorn

pool player- assuming that shit stays with you, I coulda been a chick magnet
tap dancer- I’d have been cute in a little tuxedo-style leotard
carpenter- I’d have made all kinds of tiny furniture only small people could use
sports announcer- I could have coined all these cool sports terms, and every once in a while Bob Costas would break into his commentary and say, you know that phrase started with an 8-year-old up in New Haven, CT!
anything else that would make me really famous for a little while- so then I could play Celebrity Poker Showdown and share whitty comments on VH1. Maybe even host my own reality show in some way relevant to my long-gone glory days.

Yesterday my pocket tried to take 37 pictures of itself with my camera phone. It was thwarted, however, by the fact that the lenscap was on. So, I got 37 pictures of dark-inside-of-lenscap instead of 37 pictures of dark-inside-of-pocket. I have to remember to lock my phone.