This is how my mind works

Imaginary conversation with zura:

Me: You know what bolas are, right?
Her: Yeah, sure. Why?
Me: Where could I get some?
Her: I dunno. Looking to catch some game?
Me: Well, I...I just thought it'd be cool to have some. Or one. Whatever. You never know when you might need to stop someone dead in their tracks, you know?
Her: *recovering quickly from thinking "What the fuck...?"* Yeah. Yeah, I could see that. It could be part of your utility gear when prowling the streets at night.
Me: (thinking) Uh, no.

The irony of me thinking that she was lame in imagining having a superhero utility belt when I was asking about handy-dandy bolas that you could carry around with you "just in case" is not lost on me. Nor is the fact that I had an imaginary conversation about an imaginary event. Read on.

I was taking a long walk today. I ended up walking down Avenue Laval, a beautiful street with expensive brownstones and townhouses. I passed one that was especially nice (I peeked in the window) and imagined owning it; living there.

I was walking with a friend and decided to stop in for something. Then I heard a noise from upstairs. I run to my room to investigate and see a guy running away while trying to put on my favourite outfit. Let me remind you that this is not a dream, it's my imagination. He's out the fire escape, almost out of the alley, with me in hot pursuit. I'm chasing him from alley to alley, along Prince Arthur Street, into the nearby drug park. And then I think to myself, "I could put an end to this if only I had a bola..."

There's always a reason why people have these strange thoughts, questions and requests, but it usually isn't worth explaining the path to those thoughts. Anyway, I thought it was funny.