Sitting in my old room at my parents' house, I wonder where that magic eight-ball is that used to sit on my shelf.
Actually, it was a date-ball. Pink and everything. Totally cool in middle school and too campy to get rid of after that. I'm not sure where it is tonight though. I'd like to ask it a few questions. I'd ask it what I'm supposed to be doing with my life, then remember it only takes "yes" or "no" questions and rephrase that. I would say, "Oh Magic Date Ball, am I going in the right direction?" And I would shake it a little too much and barely be able to read "NO CLUE" through all of the glitter.
Maybe it's a good thing it's not just right there on the shelf anymore. It was never very insightful.
I have a Magic 8 ball too. I figure it's cheaper than going to a psychic. The only thing is that my Magic 8 ball doesn't always give me an answer; it keeps saying, "Ask again later."
ReplyDeleteSounds like you're in a bit of a rut - hope your time away from the commune does you some good - at least works as a distraction.
ReplyDeleteI was never allowed one of those things... it was probably good though, because I likely would have convinced myself it really did know all the secrets of the world.
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