blackbird.jpg (30437 bytes)

2004-12-13 @ 1:13 a.m.
The Obsessive Details Game ©

The Obsessive Details Game © is a new game I just created. You can play it at home. You can play it at the mall. You can play it alone. You could play it with someone else, if you chose to, because there are no rules. There are no game pieces to lose. There is no scoring. And there is no timed periods of play. You can play as long as you want to. You can even play it (cough) obsessively, if you want, because, it is, after all, called The Obsessive Details Game ©.

So what is The Obsessive Details Game ©? Its a game a manic depressive might think up, when they’re trying to regain control of their sanity, by cataloging everything in their apartment. I’m not organized enough to think about alphabetizing everything, like spices in my cabinet, so I’ll sit on my couch and look around at everything in my apartment and think, wow, at some point, I stood somewhere and bought that....

Like the handmade quilt at the auction. That Portfolio art magazine at a garage sale. Those blue gauzy curtains from the Evil Empire. The “Godspell” music score at People’s Music in Sebastopol. Those Reebox sneakers at Kaufmann’s. That cinnamon scented candle at the hippie arts festival last summer. That “Austin Powers” video at Media Play. That hand painted glass floor lamp at the antique store in Salem, Oregon. That wicker basket at a tag sale in Massachusetts. That stained glass hummingbird at the store in Petaluma. That Samsung TV at Best Buys. That blue rug by the door at another auction. That stereo at yet another auction. That white wicker chair in California. That bunny figurine at a flea market in Vallejo. That small bookcase at Staples. That library table at an antique show in Portland, Oregon. That pillow at the Emporium in Santa Rosa. That other needlepoint floral print pillow at a garage sale over on the east side. That Kliban cat pillow at a junk store in Fairfax. That postcard on the fridge from San Francisco. That Broadway magnet on the fridge from New York. That book of poetry by Mrs. Browning at a garage sale. That stupid frog with sequins at another garage sale. That a garage sale. The Diane Arbus photography book on my coffee table at Copperfield’s Books on 4th Street in Santa Rosa. The watercolor paints from the Dollar Store. Guard the internet. And all those Fiestaware dishes. Shit. They’re from all over. California. Oregon. New York. I’ve bought them at stores, garage sales, antique shows, this is really going to be difficult to differentiate. And all those hundreds of books I have piled in my huge up to the ceiling bookcase? How am I going to remember where I got all them? I know I had to stand in line somewhere sometime to pay for them. Damn, this is going to be harder than I thought. But I am up to the task, because, I am...after all, the The Obsessive Details Game © game master.

Of course, this is really small potatoes compared to what you can do out at a busy mall during Christmas shopping. Like today I was looking around thinking. Wow. Look at all those people. There was so much to see there. Like, well, look at all the people. Imagine all the clothes they’re wearing. They had to buy them someplace. And they had to pay someone for them. And those people were wearing clothing. And they had to buy their clothes some place. And think of all the people who were employed to make those clothes. And all the coffee breaks they took. And I wondered how many of them gossiped. I wonder if any of them had slept together? Or drank on company time? I wondered how many of them hated their bosses? I wondered how many of them had car accidents on the way to work? I wondered how many of them cheated on their income taxes? I wondered how many of them peed on the machinery after they found out their jobs got sent to China? I then wondered how many sheep had gotten shorn to produce the wool to make the clothes? I wondered how many of the sheep shorners (?) had slept with their boss’s wife. I wondered if any of the guys who built the mall knew any of the guys who shorn the sheep? I also wondered how many bricks it took to build a mall? And how many people it took to make a brick? I wondered how much sand it took to make a brick? I wondered if the brick guys knew the sheep guys? I wondered if the sheep guys slept with the brick guy’s wives? And I wondered who decided to build the mall there? And how many people had driven in and out of the main entrance everyday before the mall was built? And how many cups of coffee they had consumed? And how many donuts did they eat? And how many nails did they nail? And how many people went to the hospital ER because their nailguns had misfired? And how many doctors who had treated them in the ER were sleeping with their nurses? And how many nurses had cousins who were sheep farmers...who shorn spin make sell to a store ...which is located in a mall...which was built by some guys....with nail guns...who probably wore shirts....bought from the the mall....built by the guys...with the nail guns....who were patched up by the the local ER...who slept with the nurses....who had cousins...who were sheep farmers....who raised spin make sell to a store...which is located in a mall...etc.

Well, I guess you get the general idea of The Obsessive Details Game ©. And the best part....its FREE!!!!
....(other than the insanity part).

0 comments so far << | >>

Older Entries
upsy, downsy, upsy, splat! - 2010-05-22
April sours bring May flowers? - 2010-05-01
when finding a head in the recycling bin is the highlight of your month - 2010-03-28
fifty two chances to be awesome...ok maybe - 2010-02-20
its sorta like "Grease" except there's no musical numbers and I'm really old - 2010-02-05


Lyrics by Lennon/McCartney. All angst copyright by awittykitty