Due to my lack of ability to sleep, I seem to get in these weird deep thinking remembering modes once in a while. I remember when I was a little girl, I would tell my dad stories while we were going places in his truck. One of the family favorites that they seem to love to pick on me about is the tale of Pizza on my Pick.
The tale was about a man who one day decided to sit on a random log. He was sad all because he had pizza on his pick and he didn’t know what to do. His friend the frog hopped away and he was worried about him. He couldn’t get to the stream because it was to far away on foot and he didn’t have a boat-car. (Yeah that’s right, a boat-car.) He cried and cried and tried to play his guitar but he couldn’t because of the pizza on his pick.
I was a very strange child. I would sing and sing and sing in my grandma’s kitchen about the “Moon and the stars and the Skelskins!” I remember watching Beetlejuice when I was younger and it has been my favorite film ever since.
Enough with childhood memories.
– Mercy Desdemona