2 out of 3... (appended 10.12pm)

am i too old to still be putting together a "best of" final bite of every meal? does a brownie-smothered-in-ice-cream count as a meal? and do i get points for creating one that's a bowlful of best-mouthfuls?
the prize is in the eating. and it's really a prize just for knowing you can't go wrong with brownies and ice-cream.
walk good.

been meaning to tell this random and slightly odd thing: the other day somebody who was liming here by us told us a story prefaced by something along the lines of "...you know sometimes an ordinary but unexpected thing will happen and for some reason your brain jumps to the most absurd conclusion, well, you'll know what i mean when i tell you this..." then told us a story that involved somebody spilling something like peas or marbles or something in the storyteller's prescence (for some reason i think he was a he) and the storyteller immediately assuming that his head had exploded, then realising that if his head was exploded he shouldn't be able to notice and comment upon it, and thus, those must not be particles of his head and its innards rolling about.
when he told this story, i knew exactly what he meant about how sometimes the mind just does that, makes bizarre leaps with very little prompting in the way of weirdness.
now i have told this story to somebody else (including the part that follows presently, about my own subsequent weird leap) and they said no, their brain never does that. so now i wanna know how many people's minds are prone to this kind of thing.
anyway, so a few days after the unremembered-friend (neither grims nor myself remembers who the hell thought his head had exploded, but we agree that we were told the story together on our living room couch) told his(?) story, i was in the car-
quick backstory: a few days prior, around the time we were told the head-exploding story, i got in the car to drive to rehearsal and noticed birdshit just inside the passenger side, on the vertical bar between front+back windows, as if grims'd been driving with the window down and me not around and a bird shat at just the right angle to catch that spot and nowhere else in the car. and i'd been saying for days that he needed to take care of it-
so i was in the car, and decided to wipe up the mess with one of the wet naps-
sorry, other half of backstory: we'd also ordered from pizza slut a few days prior, around the same time that we heard the head-exploding story and the bird shat in the car, and when the food came, grims said "look, you'll be thrilled, they gave us a shitload of wet wipes with the food" and i was thrilled, and put them in the car, knowing they'd come in handy-
so i was in the car, and decided to wipe up the mess with one of the million slut wet naps that had just come in brilliantly handy. i grabbed a little packet and tore it open, all excited about the prospect of removing the birdshit with a few damp, lemon-scented towelettes, and froze in horror when some pale yellow crumbly shit fell out.
my immediate realisation: the car had become severely radioactive and its radioactive properties had completely altered the composition of the wet wipe, leaving the pale yellow crumbled result of chemical breakdown.
my next thought was, could i go in and love up grims or would i contaminate him?
then the black squiggle on the packet in my hand resolved itself into letters. parmesan.
your brain ever do you dat?
walk good.

ps: remember when i said "monkey" was in style? well now it's pirates. it started with johnny, but it's been a slow, steady build, and i think pirates! the porno was a rung on the piratical rise in the public consciousness.