So we’re off mall walking today, and just talking crazy, no really– talking about crazy & CRAZIER people. We laughed about the silly stuff we came up with –I was telling him, how there are differences of CRAZY, I told him “I’m more like the fun CRAZY” & then I said “the real CRAZIES don’t even know their crazy, that’s what makes them soooo crazy!” & he said “so their’s degrees of crazy?” & I said ” OH YES, definitely! Then we thought that there should be a range of crazy: I.e. like a Richter scale of NUTSO & it should be 1-10, like 1 would be more silly crazy & 5 a little more fun-crazy but 10 WATCH OUT you’re full on BERSERK. You know like a friend who says “Girl, you crazy!” that ‘s O.K. even cute or when an ex-boyfriend say’s “My EX is so CRAZY, I caught her checking my messages” not too bad, but not great, and then there’s some kinda crazy, you can’t rebound from & that brings me to this one & it’s the one to really look out for “Charles was looking in my window last night & this morning followed me to work & it looked like he had something sharp in his hand, I think he’s CRAZY, that would be a 10+. These are just some of the conversations my dad & I have on a daily basis, no matter what we crack each other up & are together all the time. I’m very lucky to have so much time with my parents, as a grown up (even though, I don’t always act it). I think this call’s for a poem.
Cuckoo, berserk, loose cannon come to mind, when were together, which is most of the time. Lunatic’s are all around, ball parks, playgrounds & even uptown. These people are kooky in every way, nothing much changes, except the day! If he looks deranged like Harry Potter, wearing glasses, hats & a sweater, something’s not right, back up quick, watch out or he’ll use his magic stick.