The finest buoyancy of experience

I'll tell you the great thing about having four blocks of wood, start three fires and you've still got a block of wood!

That's something you just can't say about having three blocks of wood.

I don't have any blocks of wood today but it's still the best day of my life, and this makes me think of the following truths:

- I feel like eating fried rice.

- I hope the about fourteen year old kid on this train with a cigarette behind his ear who can't say anything without it being both moronic and extremely loud gets his head bitten off by a freak sized hawk.

- Then the hawk can eat that screaming baby.

- I think the fact that I choose that particular order for the Hawk’s eating is a sign I'm maturing.

- Oh fuck, now there's a kid about 10 years old making hawk noises.

- He’s sitting eight rows behind me; no way he can see what I'm writing.

- Can he read my mind?

- Or did my thoughts just start turning him into a freak-sized hawk?

- Holy fuck, if that dickheads head or that baby get eaten in the next couple of minutes it'll mean I'm all-powerful!

- Oh crap now the kid is making horse noises. Boo, horses NEVER eat humans.

- Damn it, who's in control here?

- If I still am then what could I possible want the horse for?

- I don't think the baby, nor the dumbass, are made of hay.

- Damn it.

- Plus all these animal noises the kid’s making are now giving me the shits, and even if he turns back to a hawk I doubt he's going to eat his own head off.

- Hey why not be positive, Dave? If I can turn a kid into a hawk maybe I can turn a kid into a hawk that eats its own head.

- Damn right!

- That’s optimism mother fucker.

- I need to buy straws on the way home.

The lesson is, if I had four blocks of wood I could throw one at each of these three noisy assholes and still have a block of wood!

You can't say THAT with three blocks of wood.