butchers, les buchers, boosh, goosh, gosh

Have you ever noticed a lag between what is going on inside your head and the English language? Or whatever it is you're speaking these days. I'm fairly certain I have not had a stroke but I have been talking about strokes a lot to my speech pathologist nerd roommate and so maybe I'm having sympathy strokes? But really that's a lie because there's been a lag my entire lifeline long. In other words, there are things I've been trying to tell quite a few people but I'm not finding the way for expressions.

Words are boxes that tell you things and my thoughts aren't finding the right boxes. They don't seem to be divisible like that. They're indivisible. Like this nation. Ha.

I could try to paint a picture (water color or oils? OK, all I have are cheap-o acrylics) but that's hardly effective either. Pictures are even less communicative these days. It's the economy. They've gone down in wordworth. Dang economy.

What I'm trying to tell a whole bunch of people goes something like this: GHokmdflskj, fsjdifj lgiiiinb slidfuldk boji ahdnawe $^sdfij bni *&UHB sjidjf dkkf ergo I'm really glad I know you.

Hey, Speech Pathologist Nerd Roommate, do you think that first part is cantonese?