Over easy

This subject keeps coming up. My eggs. My eggs are getting older by the word on this page. My eggs are the best they are ever going to be right at this moment, and every moment I wait from this moment only increases my chances of having fucked up eggs. Fuck.

This is a diminishing topic already, but the fact that it is not one of my desolate musings, but a near verbatum quote from a near stranger makes it all the more upsetting.

Other people can tell that my eggs are old. My eggs just turned 29. Who cares if people say I look 22. My eggs are really 29 and have greater chance than 22 for being fucked up.

Time is ticking. Egg timers are short timers too. Fuck.

Just so happens I have a picture of the guy who ridiculed my eggs. I choose to not remember his name, so he will go unnamed. I will just refer to him as The Jerk. And put his head on a pickle with Photoshop.

Narcolepsy looks like this:

This whole falling asleep everywhere thing is really getting to me. Earlier this week, I crashed at a diner in Hollywood following the Radiohead show. The last thing I remember was Devin saying, "you want Belgian waffles? you ordered waffles," as my finger hazily slid off some item on the menu, then everything fades to black.

My sis said they thought I'd ben ruffied, and were really worried about me aside from them and the waiter laughing their asses off as I was scooted away from the edge of the booth to the comfy corner.

I woke up the next morning thinking, hey...did I eat waffles?

I know I may not be used to such excitement, but two glasses of wine and a half a heineken shouldn't be enough to knock someone out to the point of no return two and-a-half hours later.

God help me.

I've ordered pancakes before, eaten them, and then fallen asleep and not remembered the pancakes in the morning. And it's not just a late-night diner/carbohydrate thing. I can't make it through a movie if it's after 8pm. Or before 8pm. I fell asleep last year in the tent at Coachella. There's pictures. And yesterday I dozed off, again, on the freeway going through downtown.

So this is my memoir. If I die today as I pass out in the middle of a crosswalk or when I jump the highway interchange, I'd like everyone know I didn't expect to make it as long as I did.