SPARKY B. WILDERED

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Bewilderedness. It's one of my most famous looks, one that has accompanied me throughout my adult life. So I present it here in the raw, untouched, for your Muffled Snickers. It's really the most reasonable response to the rancid tapioca that life insists on throwing your way. Sometimes you just don't understand what's expected of you, you know? Especially by yourself. Most days all I expect of myself is not to dissolve into a juicy quivering dollop of snot, and much of the time I disappoint myself. It takes a lot of heedlessness to march heedlessly through life, and I'm nothing if not heedful. I heed like nobody's business. If there's a warning to heed, I'm there heeding it. The fine irony of it all is that the person who stands stock-still in heedfulness is the one the piano falls on. I envy the heedless. If I were heedless, I would stride right over the spot where the piano will fall, right into an open manhole.