I share…

I remember last week when I had nothing to share but a little pearl of wisdom about carrots. Some of you had some important carrot wisdom to share with me too. I liked that. I share with you, you share with me.

It’s actually one of those important things that you’re supposed to learn way back when you’re a kid, like in preschool or kindergarten.

Sharing.

And that sharing is sometimes very very good. Like when I share all my insane-o thoughts and ramblings with you, or when you share yours with me. Or when K forcibly shares her pretzel sticks with people. Or when the drunk kid dials my phone to tell me he had sex with me on top of a pool table at Fred Meyer last week. That’s sharing. Not sure how that sharing works since I don’t recall having sex on a pool table at Fred Meyer with anyone at all. I didn’t even know Fred Meyer sold pool tables. Besides, if I were going to have sex on a pool table at Fred Meyer I am sure I would have shared that experience with Mr. Kaos and, and I would probably really remember that. So would the good people at Fred Meyer. And probably the police.

But none of that happened (except the phone call) so I am not exactly sure what kind of sharing that would be.

Sharing the imaginary love with strangers?

I just wanted to share something with all of you today.

See, I learned a lot in school.