The Agony and the Ecstasy V Ending

 

continued …. I guess you’re just supposed to put them on and pee but, I couldn’t help but wonder what was the standard volume limit?   

Volume of the Dam?

I looked all over for the table of contents or for some of those FAQ’s.  I found nothing about volume.  Would the damn burst after a second down pour? 

What do I do?  I didn’t want to “pee the car”! 

I felt those desperate feelings coming on but I said, “Screw it.  I’m living la vida loco!” and let ‘er rip.  

A Spot the Size of A Silver Dollar

Glancing down, I noticed a wet spot on my black jeans at the top of my right thigh about the size of a silver dollar..  

“Consarnit!”  I’m pissed.  This is not what I was hoping for.  Without thinking I curse my dilema.  I get so pissed I can’t stand it.  Soon after I regain my composure when chuckling to myself I remember my earlier thoughts of being pissed off and feeling pissed on.  And I thank my lucky stars that I have a good relationship with my inlaws instead of having to hang with my outlaws whoever they might be.  

Suddenly, my thoughts about being with my outlaws or being pissed off or even pissed ON become a moot point.  The diaper experience taught me just how strong I can be since nothing compares to being pissed ON AND pissed OFF at the same TIME!  

I’m being philosophical and open about the whole experience.  In fact I’ve already started pricing the ‘double wides’ but ONLY if Jodi tells me my ass looks basically the same.  

The Agony and the Ecstasy IV

 

 

 

continued; Boy howdy did that ring a bell with me!

I Got the Urge 

Next, I’ll tell you how all off these factors came together to form this super collision.  

The morning of my departure I ‘suited up’ for the trip.  The gray ones looked almost dressy in my estimation.  Nice and cushy up front with a little frilly gathering work around the leg slots.  Jodi reassured me my ass didn’t look any different than usual (which would have been a ‘deal breaker”).

We said our good byes and I hit the road.  An hour and a half or two hours after leaving Port Charlotte on I-75 north of Tampa I felt the first blush of an impending shower and the anxiety that usually comes with it.  

Then, with hardly realizing it I felt the warmth.  

Golly, my habitual frustration, anger and pain was no longer an issue.  I was in heaven.  I dropped the Mustang into 4th gear, dusted the slow poke in the left lane upped my speed to 85 punched in the cruise control and cruised, smiling.  

All That Time!

Whilst flowing, I thought about all the TIME I was saving by not having to stop to pee the old fashioned way.  

By the time it was time to get gas I was so relaxed, I didn’t even think about peeing.  When the Mustang was full,  I thanked my lucky stars, got in and was back on I-75 in slightly less time than it would have taken a pit crew from the Indy 500.  

Shortly after the gas up I felt the urge to go again while at the same time feeling a bit confused because of my lack of experience in certain matters. 

I wondered what the volume limit was on these things.  It didn’t say on the package in fact, there were no directions at all.  I guess you’re just supposed to put them on and pee but, I couldn’t help but wonder what was the standard volume limit?   

continued …

The Agony and the Ecstasy III

 

Wondering About the Glory 

One day during the golden hour at the end of the day mulling things over while feeding bread to the turtles I wondered, what will it be like to simply keep the gates open and let the water flow when the bladder wants it to flow all natural like?  

In other words, what will letting myself pee as soon as I feel the urge, without giving it a second thought,  be like?  Will it be liberating?  

The Third Leg

There’s a third element that fits into all these revelations I’ve been having.  

I can’t help but feel frustrated with everybody always being pissed off like you’re pissed off or I’m pissed off and she’s pissed off or he’s pissed at her and everybody’s pissed at somebody while some are pissed at everybody!  When this girl, the only intelligent person in the whole group, spoke out saying, “But don’t you realize?  It’s so much better to be pissed off than it is to be pissed on!”

 The room got quiet then everyone started clapping and agreed.  She really put everything into perspective for me.  In other words,  we should be thankful for what we have instead of lamenting what we DON’T have because often what you wish for is ten times worse than what we already HAVE.”  

A Similar Razzle 

That comment about being pissed off reminded me of a similar razzle that occurred one day when I had a fleeting conversation with this guy in new York way back in the mid seventies when I mentioned I dreaded having dinner with my in laws.  The guy got real serious, came a little closer and in the softest matter of fact tone looked around and said, ‘Let me give you some good advice.”  He looked around again, locked his eyes onto mine and said, ” It’s a lot better being with your in laws than it is being with your outlaws.” 

Boy howdy, did that ring a bell with me!    

continued …

The Agony and the Ecstasy II

 

 

 

continued …. “Gosh,” I realized.  “Despite the fact that she doesn’t have an enlarged prostate gland and I’ve never had the urge to commit murder we have a lot in common!”

Creative Genius

I compared and contrasted the motivations of the diaper clad, crazed astronaut with the agony I feel when I have to pee while speeding along the interstate at 85 mph trying to get from point A to point B without getting killed, put it all into a neat little package, mulled it over in my head for a couple weeks, discussed the situation with Jodi and made a decision.  

“Yes!” I thought.  Being an adventurous type I declared, “I’ll wear the damn Dependz and be a better person for it!  I’ll be a super hero .  I’ll be …  Dependz Man!”

Look, I don’t feel embarrassed about “coming out of the closet” as a diaper clad older dude because of the solid reasoning behind my decision.  And, like I’ve always said, “form follows function,” or to put another way if it’s not fixed don’t break it again.”  

I Have Choices! 

I mean, I DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS!  I’m not a doddering old incontinent fool Goshdarnit!  On the contrary I’m thinking about changing my name to Benjamin Button!  

Seriously, other than an abundance of titanium and ceramics at various ball and socket joint locations throughout my body I have no organ miscreants within me at all.

All systems are running smoothly.  Everything is a GO.  A-OK.  With the exception of …my bladder.  

continued …

The Agony and the Ecstasy

 

 

The Agony and the Ecstasy

The agony of suddenly having to pee with great intensity while cruising eighty five miles an hour on the interstate with no place to pee in sight, cannot be understated!

After a minute it hurts. Longer than a minute? It hurts bad.

The Eternal Battle

In case you’re wondering many of us men are victims of the eternal battle between the full bladder demanding to be emptied immediately if not sooner vs the sleepy bloated enlarged prostate gland supposedly no longer useful ignoring pleas from the bladder lazily refusing water’s passage.

It’s never easy having to suddenly pee when you’re on the road.   No matter where you are or what you’re doing, when it’s time to go you suddenly gotta go with every fibre in your body!

With meds you get relief once you find a place to go. Without meds, it doesn’t matter where you are since no matter how bad you have to go, a few golden drops may be all you’ll get.

Then, you know you’re screwed.

Homicidal Astronaut

Sometimes when you least expect them, brilliant solutions can pop into your head.

A couple weeks ago while working on the dock down there at Turtle Cove an idea popped into my head when for no reason I remembered the story about an astronaut woman a few years ago who figured, if she wore extra absorbent adult diapers she could drive non stop from point A to Point B, kill another woman and return so quickly that authorities would never suspect she could have been at the murder scene.

Her plan didn’t work. She didn’t kill the other woman. She made it back and forth in record time. But, she got arrested and lost her job as an astronaut.

Creativity At Work

Despite the absurdity, a creative force began stitching together the agony of having to pee during long distance journeys and the woman astronaut clad in super absorbent diapers intent on murdering the other woman.

“Gosh,” I realized. “Despite the fact that she doesn’t have an enlarged prostate gland and I’ve NEVER had the urge to commit murder we have a lot in common!”

continued …

Rooster Speaks/Sun Fan

Rooster Speaks

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Ashes pure as light cast off                                                                                                                 at early morning’s flight

the day of my departure from                                                                                                                     the land of Midday sun where,

skies are rarely gray mostly every day where,                                                                             rest assured your health will be ok

you’ll find a Walgreen’s store every which way                                                                                                                           no matter where you look

where four corners can be found.    

If you love palm trees, slash pine, oak and                                                                                   saw palmetto you’ll

enjoy the scenery for                                                                                                                     mile upon mile upon high mileage (Double your pleasure)

on both sides of the street for such long distances!

If you love it’s unabashed sameness you’ll think you’ve died and gone

to heaven;  

“’But, not I,’” pipped up the cock eyed rooster with                                                                          strange reply

I had never heard him speak.  Still, I had to agree with what he had to say.  

Sun Fan

“I’m not a big sun fan anymore.                                                                                                             I prefer to walk on the shadowy

side of the street where I                                                                                                             belong since, basically

I’m just a shadow looking for some shade  

to lie down under and sleep

beneath a tree I know

I’ll

someday

  find.

 

Gile Steele On Tape

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The Gile Steele Tapes; 12:15, Thursday
… She walked away from that maternal relationship with deep resentment for the way she was treated, unfairly, she was punished because she withstood the attacks on her self confidence, her self possession her intelligence.
 They became rivals and it was the only way she could defend herself.  They were her tools of battle.  They played their games overt and covert the old lady never really ‘lost’ and She never won but, she was as adversarial as a child can be without full scale abuse the result and anyway, their’s was more covert …. warfare.
What results is, firm imprinting on the purpose of life lived every day a war of wits and the knack for closing the door on black feelings as the closet or bedroom door were locked with her inside the dark where fears were meant to grow.
Maybe when we are under assault from any power we have to identify with the power of the power that threatens us even if we don’t use the same THRUST,  or for the same purpose, it becomes part of a person physically by constant imprint when those moments came to pass and those critical, nasty, intentionally hurtful feelings are in the air …. Seldom if ever were there tender words of kindness from a mother figure more to show how it’s done and how it feels.
And yet, she parlayed her upbringing by being an fantastic mother despite the lack of leadership along those lines.
I’m beginning to believe that the strongest motivator is the desire/need impulse or whatever to ‘compensate’ for the opposite of the things that plagued us when we were growing up developing self awareness … seeing ourselves as people for the first time though fucking skewed as hell because we were seeing ourselves  through the broken lens of our parents eyes.
Perhaps this realization deep below the surface is the driving force … the little voice that is determined to win that battle, discovering by steps and increments that, the energy that drives that desire is the propelling force toward acquiring more knowledge to move forward.  Using that energy energizes.  It feels so good.
About sharing your laughter?  I shouldn’t feel alone when I tell a funny story even if it doesn’t do much more than cause another person to smile.
I tell her I have a new look it’s wearing a baseball cap with the Camel cigarette logo.
Why is that funny?  It’s the irony of wearing a hat that promotes smoking multiplied by the fact that Camel is perceived as the strongest cigarette.
I laugh while presenting the idea.  The laughter that’s generated brings energy to people rescuing them from the lonely doldrums.
LONELY DOLDRUMS … Who WAS that guy wearing the Camel hat?
She doesn’t see the irony.  I make an analogy to the Lone Ranger and “Who Was That Man Wearing the Camel Hat?”
It’s easy to deny the existence of another person when they tell you a story they think is funny.  We smile and listen and make remark to acknowledge the humor.
If you don’t laugh it’s as if the words didn’t exist.  She tells me to leave her alone before I’m finished telling the story.  There’s no laughter.  No sharing.  In essence, nothing you’ve said, or done has made a personal impact.
Two people laughing means, you’ve penetrated the personal barrier on a highly personal level even when it happens with a perfect stranger.  Sharing laughter is the highest form of ‘connection’.  Laughter is the bodies release of tension.  The relief of feeling safe.
It’s feeling safe with another person or a whole bunch of people.
I tell her I’m finally getting a haircut at ten thirty.  The reply, ‘’Aren’t you lucky.’’ I respond with humor, “No, I’m the lucky one, you’ve had at least two haircuts during the time I’ve had none.’’
She turns and with resentment attempts to disprove my claim.
I raise my hands!  It’s supposed to be funny!
She turns, without a word and walks away.  Not a word about me personally .  My long, unkempt hair doesn’t exist.
Gile Steele

The Gile Steele Tapes

The Further Adventures of Gile Steele; The Man Wearing A Camel Hat

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Who WAS that man in the Camel hat?

 

Interview: 12/18/18 TGI Fridays

So, I guess it was a couple hours ago.  I was waiting on that table in the corner and over to my left was this guy with all the looks of a typical older guy, white haired with one of those goatees every man over fifty seems to have to have like it’s some kind of requirement that if you are a cool older dude you have white chin hairs! .. ha ha ha .

He scared me at first because I couldn’t figure him out.  He was definitely different.

So I’m talking with the customer about the shrimp on the menu and she said something funny and I’m laughing when out of the corner of my eye I see this guy … this man … signaling to me like he’s lost at sea.

I glance up and my eyes meet his and they’re pleading eyes really big and he’s pounding the palm of his hand against an imaginary ketchup bottle like it’s a HUGE ketchup bottle, kind of ridiculous looking.  He does these ketchup bottle moves then gets carried away and it looks like he’s pumping ketchup through one of those plunger type squirt guns you use in the pool.  

He’s either got a grin on his face or he’s looking like he’s pleading with me for ketchup but he looks serious and deadpan at the same time.

I know right away he wants ketchup!  Before I even nod my head he’s giving me the thumbs up and I’m so surprised because originally I was kind of afraid of him but now I realize he’s just this non obtrusive guy who doesn’t look like he could hurt a flea. I forget all about the ketchup because Matt took them their ketchup but, later when I walk past their table he collars me and he wants to talk about ketchup so we’re talking real close like our faces are two or three feet away from each other having this mock serious discussion about ketchup and I don’t know what he wants from me so I just play along because it’s fun sooo … it’s obvious he’s “putting me on” about the whole ketchup thing. 

He tells me he’s a super hero whose name is Ketchupman.  He asks me if I want to know what his super power is and it’s that and he can tell when people need ketchup before they even KNOW they want ketchup so can be there in a heartbeat.  This is so ridiculous but it’s funny because, whoever heard of a super hero named Ketchupman?

I ask why he didn’t have any ketchup on him back a little while ago and he tells me it’s a long story that he’s not feeling well these days and I say maybe you’re sick and you should see a doctor and he just fires right back like he already knew twhat I was gonna say “Yeah, I think it’s time to start taking medication.”  Which seemed a funny ass thing to say at the moment because we both gave each other that ‘look’ … 

His eyes follow me as I have to walk away but, we are both laughing because of the …. insanity of the conversation, and I have to keep walking to my table but I can’t stop laughing.   For some reason it’s the funniest thing.

And it was so funny to be with somebody who’s funny like that and … maybe, unconventional I guess you’d say.  I just can’t remember ever just …. ‘bungling’ like that.  

“Wasn’t that the guy with the camel hat?” 

So I say, “I don’t know I didn’t see no camel hat.” 

We’re both heading out the door when we run into Sharon.  

“Hey you guys,” she says.  “Who was that man wearing the camel hat?” .  

Gile Steele; The Man Wearing the Camel Hat

I Guess It’s Just What You Believe …..

Don’t blame me, I can’t get this post to show double spaces between the paragraphs.  I think it looks terrible but … whaddya gonna do?  
Of course I have friends on Facebook!  We share the past like, we’re brothers and sisters.
So, one of my Facebook sisters wrote this piece as a comment to someone about some sheets that were advertised to help people sleep better.
Since I’m from a small town I’m aware that topics like these can become the focus of some pretty interesting conversations and points of view.
When I first read her comment I didn’t know what she was referring to with these sheets.  But I thought what she wrote was hilarious.  I tried to make up a conversation whereby I’d make a statement to fit what she had written … but I couldn’t do it.
So I decided to let it alone and post it as I first discovered it like … a little jewell.
The whole piece is so insanely funny and sweet and innocent and honest that I couldn’t help but want to share it. Maybe I’m the only person who feels this way in the whole world!  Still, I didn’t care.  I hope there are a few who enjoy it for what it is.
I told Karen I’d give her credit for writing it but in my haste to just get it posted yesterday I didn’t include her name.  I thought maybe there was a married name to go with her maiden name.
So, may I present from a “sister” of mine from the little town of Durand, Michigan the railroad center of the state this piece I titled:
I Guess It’s Just What You Believe In To Help You Sleep
By Karen VanKuren
…  I think this is just a ploy to buy their sheets.  There are tons of reasons why people don’t sleep good at night.  It all depends on the person.  
I have finally found that if I turn off the tv at night,,, I don’t have something in the background to wake me while sleeping.. I now sleep all night (except for having to pee 3 times during the night,, haha),,, but the pitch black does cause your body to produce more melatonin…
I also like my bedroom cool and I’ve been sleeping all night for about a year now since I changed my ways…. Come daylight,, I put a fuzzy thick sock over my eyes also.. The darker it is,, the deeper sleep I get..
I was wearing an eye mask,, but the thing that goes around my head over my hair was breaking my hair off after a while and I had a whole new hairdo for a while till it all grew out again,,, so now I just put the thick, soft, furry sock over my yes..
Now as far as what they said about Alzheimer’s and sleep,, I believe,, but (I’m) not so sure about those sheets…. :) Just like the pillow guy.. I have friends that bought them and love them,, and friends that hate them….
Just my opinion but, I guess it’s just what you believe in to help you sleep.
****
Right on, Karen! Right on ….. !

How I Fell From First Chair Drummer to Band Outcast

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I watched them hit that old pine floor with perfect syncopation; touch and bounce, touchwood bounce from tip to tip/ bouncing tip to end tapping ratatapping their own rhythm as if guided by unseen puppet strings.

How I Descended From First Chair Drummer To Band Outcast

The drum section in the back left corner of our tiny band room was cordoned off from the rest of the band by a bass drum, three snare drums, three kettle drums, a set of chimes, a full sized gong and a silver glockenspiel on a stand.  

Most days Mr. Green (the band director) worked with different instrumental sections while we in the percussion section sat around waiting to play usually not until the end of the period when to appease us, we played couple of marches.

Out of boredom, my ADD aversion to sitting still and plenty of free time, I visited various vantage points where I could peek through all the cracks between the different percussive instruments at different band members, flirt with a couple of girls or, watch Green his angry face bright red, his pock marked chipmunk cheeks puffed out more than usual, his words cutting and sharp, humiliate various band members who weren’t able to play their parts perfectly, haranguing them to practice more, questioning their commitment.  

”If you’re not committed to practicing at least a half hour each night then get out of here right now!”

I could move around back there as long as I didn’t interfere with his teaching which eventually was why I began the slow descent from first chair drummer to band outcast.

Anger Multiplied

My descent to outcast status wasn’t only because I had the freedom to move around.  It was what I carried in my hands when I moved around; a pair of 2B drum sticks in constant motion against the side of my leg, banging out the rhythms to Motown or rock songs that constantly flowed through my brain.

Inevitably the tip of one of my flailing sticks would click against another.  If I was real careless I might tap a music stand or send a cymbal zzzzing …… or worse of all,  one or both of my sticks would slip out of my hand.  I’d watch it fall helplessly as my life passed before my eyes, before hitting that old pine floor with perfect syncopation to touch and bounce, touchwood bounce from tip to tip/ratatapping their own rhythm,  bouncing tip to end tapping out their own improvisation as if guided by unseen puppet strings. 

Which infuriated Green!

More … Much More … 

The Tragedy

The Tragedy

Dragged along on their journey of repentance after the tragedy not kicking and screaming but depressed about losing life long friends to a new world, we ricocheted through time and space to the four corners then home again to where it all began before, hoping to put pieces back together that would never fit together again. 

It all started the summer Deac and Donna partied almost every weekend with three other couples on the grass along the west side of Jim and Janey’s house, one of those big two story mission style houses with three dormer windows looking down on the front sidewalk, a wide front porch five or six steps up from the sidewalk, a slender Roman column at porch level supporting the front left corner of the second floor, probably build during the 1930s it filled an entire corner lot front to back and played an important role in the tragedy from beginning to end. 

During their get togethers I roamed around on my bicycle playing with kids who lived in that neighborhood playing catch in the street or football on the grass as long as we were careful not to throw any passes into their booze bucket.     

THEIR PARTIES

Their parties followed a routine that never varied.  The men played poker, gathered around or hunched over a card table at the back half of the lot next to the house, red, white and blue poker chips scattered about the middle of the table, neat piles of chips stacked according to their value in front of each player while drinking Strohs or Blatz or Pabst Blue Ribbon beer from metal cans, two holes punched at the top of each can with a ‘church key’ hung from the handle of a galvanized tub full of beer and ice beneath a card table holding every type of booze and mix you could think of. 

The women gathered in the kitchen or sat on aluminum chairs in a circle on the grass smoking, drinking and laughing not far from the men who guffawed, teased each other or were serious depending on how much money was in the pot. 

Next:  Some Janey and Donna. 

The Further Adventures of Gile Steele

Further Adventures of Gile Steele

So, there he was at the hospital exactly a year later at the same time, same place having the same procedure performed, by the same doctor, in the same room, next to the nurse’s station where a year earlier several factors came together in the middle of the night causing  an unexpected event to occur after his nurse gave him a tiny pain pill to alleviate the fiercest, most relentless pain of his life … then told him the next little pill would NOT be due for another four hours … (four fucking hours?)!  What was he to do?

After the nurse left his room he thought about what had just happened then, in a drug and pain induced brain fog pulled the tubes from his left arm and, using the food cart as a walker made a half assed attempt to escape the hospital for some unknown reason.

From that point forward the “real” world fell away was rearranged, reconstructed and put back together again when  the strange figure of a man appeared moving down a darkened hallway away from the nurses station, at two a.m. looking very determined, pushing a food cart, wearing black shorts,  t-shirt and a pair of white TED hose, where he stopped and was seen telling two nurses, a CNA, a security guy (with arms crossed over golfing shirt … NOT proving that he was a bad ass),  that he had every right to leave the hospital if he wanted to.

Soon after the exchange he returned to his room and fell asleep on a lounger that gave great comfort even though it didn’t take the pain away, after the charge nurse downstairs (an Air Force Academy graduate) convinced him it would be better if he DID return to his room.

And so, he did.

As to the significance of the occasion? He told me, “When an unexpected event occurs, you get startled out of your senses and if you’re lucky when this happens, unusual forces from all over the place join together, making all kinds of sparks and new connections and shit that gyrates, that sends light out crossing other paths, pinging, making, striking all colors never seen, crossing, drawn from people normally grazing grass turned brown, bored, lonely jolted awake by something worth seeing having never seen before!”

I loved the way he described it.

“Most of the time we steer ourselves along on rigidly separate flight paths,” he said.

“We are all far flung variables of differing spectrum with varying degrees of heat that would NEVER have crossed paths, becoming heat/light broken/arcing/tapping new rhythms, twisting smoke like colors never seen before, sparks and brief waves of light thrown into the void of all their dark spaces, the light of “being” allowed to exist if but for a moment, during the event that ends with people usually returning to their grazing.”

“They go back to their separate flight paths but with fundamental change.  Maybe startlingly singular unexpected conflagrations of attraction coming together such as these, reach into our genome level based on intensity,  the genome makes a recording of the event using stripes and numbers, the recordings are a measure of intensity.  They’re probably color coded constantly building, writing their own individual formulas, reflections of time and light twisting, building, building intent to reach some point in time to ‘build out’, anxious to accomplish the task or just doing what’s necessary to move about?”

“A recording of events totaling itself within the endless array of neural connections it has been branching off and growing,  we see evolution as a result.”

I must have looked perplexed so he explained, “Everybody every day has experiences that impact and startle them awake, that affect them on a fundamental level.  A split second after surprise comes the relief of being safe.  We laugh in relief that we are still alive.  People love to be scared at least momentarily.  It’s what we call ”funny” hahaha” … it’s a part of the primal instinct not to get eaten called, self preservation.”

“War is the most powerful experience bringing about change. Self preservation reduced to it’s fundamental opposition, boiled down to black hole level.  But war is no laughing matter.”

He loved the absurd humor of these startling, suddenly wide awake situations producing laughter in relief, the sight of people’s faces,  the startled first time behavior, the wide eyed, surprised looks, a brief return to childhood face, a re-creation of the 16 year old smile, faces dripping smooth then frozen in time with white teeth and sparkling eyes, adding color, filling in a few of the voids within,  awareness boiled down,  distilled and rendered into pure unadulterated laughter.”

He joked, “The opposite of war?   Haha ha ha ha …!”

It’s Ironic

Something funny transpired today 

between my nurse practitioner Matt 

and Me after our 

consultation.  

He ended our visit saying,

“These are things you have to do when 

you start getting 

older,” and so

we had touched on 

the subject of

Life. 

“Men don’t live as long as women you know. “ 

“I know,” one of us said,

“It’s the payback they get for 

bringing babies into 

the world.”

(and then)

“Oh man, you mean they get to live in this shitty world a little longer?”

To wit, it was said,

“The high point of their lives is when the men in their lives are gone.  Way before then, men can be more than just a nuisance. “  

The “other” said, “Much more than a nuisance man!!

Many if not all of us will be blabbering fools by that stage! “

(then)

“Idiots even!!……no wait……….. “What was I saying??

“It’s ironic ..”

Grand Canyon Phil

 Lynn started having severe headaches a year and a half after marrying Phil who considered himself a libertarian pledged to be a pain in the ass to every person he met.

One summer they were on vacation at the Grand Canyon riding donkeys down a trail along the canyon wall around 200 feet above the Rio Grande.

The trail widened just as Phil called the guy in front of him a fucking jack ass.

Lynn pulled up next to Phil.

‘’The nerve of him,’’ she thought to herself. ‘’I’ve about had it with this asshole.’’  Without realizing, the word ‘asshole’ had escaped from Lynn’s lips.  

Phil’s head spun sideways to look at Lynn, a look of astonishment on his face just as Lynn, with a vice like grip, dug her fingernails into the skin around the top of Phil’s shoulder.

The last thing Phil saw before a tumbling blend of spectacular Grand Canyon colors enhanced by an immense orange setting sun was, Lynn’s smiling face mouthing the words, ‘’Good by asshole.’’

When they returned topside the entire group reaffirmed Lynn’s version of the story.  Phil had leaned over too far while yelling, “Fuck off!’’ to the group leader and had fallen over the edge of the gorge.

That night Lynn drove eastward toward Las Vegas.

Phil’s body was never found.

G-Note Decrescendo, Finale, Bump Note

Continued.  I finally realized I didn’t know WHY the telephone was invented.  I stared straight ahead at nothing.  With a pleading look on my face I said,  ‘’Beats the shit out of me.”  
When I uttered those words, all my senses shut down except my hearing.  All I remember is a wall of sound washing over me.  You know that high pitched cackling sound women make when they all start laughing at the same time?   Don’t they call that the G Note, or something like that?  
When that wall of vibrations hit me I thought my head might fly back so hard I’d re-injure an old neck injury I got when I played football.   Continued.  

What’s funny is, I wasn’t even trying to be funny.  This was one of those moments when you find yourself being honest in an unconscious way.  The experience of total honesty on an unconscious level is so far from the real world it catches people totally unaware in the real world.  

People laugh in relief after being surprised by the unexpected.   

What’s even funnier is looking back, I can still see myself continuing to ponder the question while the chorus of G Notes washed over me; maybe Alexander Graham Bell was just trying to figure out a way to let his servants know it was time to bring the soup into the dining room, when he invented the phone.  Or, maybe he didn’t know what the damn thing would be used for. he just knew someone else was trying to invent one and he wanted to be first.  

So, how could anyone really know why the phone was invented? 

I was sure those three women didn’t know that the question had taken on such large philosophical dimensions to me and no way was I going to give them even an inkling of my thoughts. 

Just before the cackling started to die down I knew the room was going to get quiet and  further comment would be expected from me.  I got nervous and tried to think what I’d say but a soft voice inside my head kept whispering, ‘’Quiet, quiet, quiet.”

So, I decided to refrain myself and shut up for a change.  

A lot of the tension in the room had been released so I figured, if I played my cards right I could slip out of there unscathed by further attacks about my other infraction, the tardiness of my paperwork but, only IF I could refrain from saying something dumb which would start the talk cycle all over again.  I needed to move straight ahead with little or no verbiage.    

I was in the cusp, so to speak. I could have disappeared to the far side of the moon at that point or laid flat on the surface of a full moon, fully exposed for all three of them to take pot shots at me, whatever in God’s name all of that means.   

I know you’re probably waiting with ‘baited breath’ to know what happened next which, I don’t even know what ‘baited breath’ means.  Baited?  Baited breath to catch what?  How could your breath be baited?  Or, maybe ‘baited breath’ has to do with being aware that someone might be telling you a fish story?

Of course I know this is all ridiculous.  But, if you really care, here’s what finally happened.  

After the laughter died down, I played it real cool.  I stretched, like I had just finished putting the finishing touches on my Ph.D. thesis and was satisfied with the results.  Then, I very nonchalantly (I had to be very careful not get too close to the waste paper basket since, within 12 inches or less it’s a ‘given’ I’ll knock it over.) moved past Carol’s desk, past all three of them, toward the same door I’d been looking at earlier while I was in LaLa Land thinking about Alexander Graham Bell and dropped my paper work into the Inbox.  

Then, I turned and before anyone could say anything I said, ‘Hey, I gotta go.  I left my car running.  Have a great day.  Call me if you’ve got something for me Carol.  I promise I’ll check my messages more often, ok?  I promise!’’   

I pushed the door open and stepped outside.  Before the door closed I snatched a quick look back into the office.  The three of them were looking at me with smiles on their faces.  Jennifer looked like the girl from the Exorcist the way her head was twisted around.  

I was trying really hard to continue being nonchalant.  I kept a pleasant smile oj my face.  Finally I heard the door click behind me and I was free! I pictured myself walking away, limping of course because of that stupid hip of mine.  I wondered if they were looking at me through the window thinking what a ‘’Clyde’’ I was?

Most of the time life is a never ending stream of ridiculously funny, unpredictable events that stream along side the river of consciousness that’s part of my real world.  I never know what’s going to happen next or, what I’ll do in response.  It’s as much of a surprise to me as it is for anyone else involved so, I get to laugh along in “third person” which, for all intents and purposes, I think I am.  

The end of this episode was pleasing, enough.  I was happy to get the hell out of there unscathed.  Therefore, I didn’t have to go back to my car and beat up on myself for saying something really dumb like I usually do AND it was reaffirming that I finally had the balls to use the car as an excuse to get out of the office thereby NOT wasting a shit load of gas. 

Truth of the matter is, I’m not even sure what happened wasn’t really stupid.  All I know is, all three of them were smiling when I left so I guess everything is just fine.  

How the G Note Gave Me A Neck Ache

continued … maybe I muttered something like, ‘’well, you know how it goes,” blah, blah blah,  when suddenly the woman named Linda (who’s pretty aggressive) says rather forcefully, “Why do you think phones were invented?!’’  
continued …

The first thing I thought was, what the hell kind of bullshit attitude is this? 

Was she trying to put me on the spot to test my mettle or something like that? 

To tell you the truth I didn’t really care what she said while at the same time  some little voice inside my head kept saying, “Fuck you bitch,” AND “Uh-oh, this could be trouble,” at the same time!

And yet, on top of all of this intrigue the question intrigued me!  On the deepest level, why was the telephone invented?

It gave me ‘’pause’’ for thought during that brief interlude.  

I must have said something pretty stupid after mulling over the question since, when I replied a wall of sound swept over me.  

Here’s how it happened …  continued ,…

When Carol, (the aggressive one) said, ‘’Why do you think phones were invented?’’ looked up and stared over at Suzanne’s office, on the other side of Carol’s desk, into the tiny space between the edge of the open door and the window on the far wall.

I don’t know why I fixated on that particular spot. I stared at it wondering what the REAL reason telephones were invented?

I knew damn well they weren’t invented so people could be called for work assignments! I mean, did Alexander Graham Bell even consider that some day there’d be answering machines?   

I was being totally over analytic as usual mulling this stupid question over and over in my mind coming up with all kinds of thoughts on the subject.  

For a split second I even saw Alexander Graham Bell calling his assistant  (what was his name Watson? ) to come upstairs because he had spilled acid on his hand.

All of this thinking and wondering happened within a split second but I guess the timing was perfect  you know, one beat, two beat … . 

 The room got real quiet.  Suddenly it dawned on me.  I didn’t know why the fucking telephone was invented!

I went from being confused to concerned.  I know it showed on my face.  Maybe it looked like I had been deep in thought and was about to speak a pearl of wisdom.

So I said, ‘’Well.  I don’t know why the telephone was invented.’’ 

Suddenly it seemed like all my senses shut down completely, when wall of sound suddenly washed over me!  You know, that high pitched cackling noise groups of women make when they all start laughing at then same time!?

Don’t they call that the G-NOTE  or something like that?

That explosion of sound practically knocked my head backward!

(continued … 

FaKakda fakakda

Heard today downtown: “Fakakda this fakakda folker spoiling far a pongha fakakda, the fakakda fun a Yiddisha fakakda? that’s me!  I’m the number one fakakda fakakda best fakakda there is by far! Fakakda Me! Wooh woohwhoospuke spoof woof …. Oye veigh …. so

If you don’t think this is funny then I probably need to see a psychiatrist.  This definitely proves that stupid is funny which figures since, I’m the stupidest guy I know! oy .

Living most of my life within the Jewish culture taught me a very funny word and it popped into my head today … fakakda!  and I laughed.  So I scrambled around for something to write on when I realized the computer was on.  I had a V8 moment without the can!

So, I let my fingers do the walking through the sound within my brain.  Wanting to put just a LITTLE humanity into this ridiculous tirade of words I threw in the “Me” aspect … so fucking dumb …then, I had to immerse myself within the word world of “Me” (wherever that is ) and it needed to be in lock step with rest of this … I won’t say ..

See it’s all about rhythm to me.  Make the words skip across the page like flat skipped stones thrown across the water.  I may or may not know how to do this. But I have respect for what it is and how it feels to me!

To immerse yourself in the words is like crawling inside another world, stupid and asinine as often they are and I can be.   Really!  You didn’t know?   ok . bye .k

Where’s My Passport? Look Under the Underwear You Idiot!

I was conflicted.  Should I return the money or go on a spending spree?

I thought about going to Brazil or Paraguay or even Chechnia but, I couldn’t find my freeking passport!

I looked all over the place!

I got so tired of looking I said, “Screw it!  I’ll stay home and watch the Ali Foreman fight on T.V.!”

The fight was cancelled which really pissed me off.  But, I found a Looney Tunes cartoon festival which was even better.

I wasn’t two minutes into the first Woody Woodpecker cartoon when the door bell rang.

Two guys told me they were from the IRS.  They asked me if i knew a certain woman on the 5th floor.

I told them I did then, “Whew! I thought you were looking for me!”

They started asking me questions.  They said they liked me and everything but they had to take me to headquarters for processing!

The younger guy on the left smiled, “It won’t take long.”  The older guy on the right stared hard at me his eyes slightly squinted, a left to right movement of his head barely visible.

I asked if I could take a few things with me.

The guy on the right said, “No way!‘’

The younger guy smiled and said, ‘’Why not?”

The older guy said,”Well, OK.  But make it snappy!  We haven’t got all day!’’

I grabbed my Detroit Tigers souvenir program (the year they beat St. Louis for the world series), my favorite t-shirt and an extra pair of jeans.

That’s when i discovered my passport!

“Oh shit!” I thought.  “There’s my frickin’ passport!! Under my underwear where I put it for safe keeping!”

After locking the apartment door (as we were leaving)  I said, “What about the woman on the fifth floor?’’

They looked at each other then back at me.

The older agent who stared hard at me smiled and said,  “She’s an IRS agent.  We were meeting her for lunch!’’

The younger guy who earlier had smiled barely shook his head from side to side his eyes piercing into mine.

Zumba My Ass Once Again?

Zumba My Ass

Once again he was saddened by the thought that, “She never thinks i’m funny!“

Most of the things HE thought were funny, SHE thought were either stupid or sexually degenerate.

She hated the word ‘’shit’’ which he thought was the funniest word in the English language!

And she didn’t think sex was funny which he thought was even funnier than the word shit!

She used to say, “I don’t appreciate your barnyard humor.’’

He remembered the time she stormed out of the room after he said,  “I’d love to be able to fly like a bird but, I wouldn’t want to BE a bird because when they have sex it’s over after a couple of quick thrusts!”

She said something over her shoulder as she stormed out of the room. All he heard was, “Compared to you.” He didn’t catch the rest.

Strange as it seems, he chuckled at the craziness of the situation.

“IT’S OK she doesn’t get it most of the time!’’ he thought.  “’Fer crying out loud you can’t connect on everything!”

Still, he hoped that occasionally she’d laugh at what he DID or SAID to BE funny instead of the unintentional things that happened which she thought were  hilarious!

Like the time he was carrying the groceries in from the car, tripped over that stupid exercise ball she never used, fell and separated his shoulder!

She laughed so hard she didn’t even hear his pleas to call 911!

“I can’t,” she replied laughing hysterically, “I just peed my pants!”

Through the haze of pain he thought, “Well, at least she’s laughing!”

But then she got pissed because the exercise ball hit a nail and went flat.

As she walked out of the room the last thing he heard was, ‘’Call 911 yourself you clumsy ass hole. It’s your own damn fault! “

He had to fish the phone out of his back pocket. Which isn’t an easy task when you’re lying on the floor with a separated shoulder.

But the battery was dead!

A moment  later she came back into the kitchen.

She began picking up the groceries but she ignored him.

“But you’ve never used that thing!”,  he said through clenched teeth, in pain on the floor.

Pleadingly he pleaded, “It’s bleached out from lying outside in the sun for TWO YEARS! I made a landscape ornament out of that damn thing after the first year!”

She stared at him like she was in deep thought.  Then, glaring at him through narrowed eyes she replied, “Well, I WAS thinking of joining that zumba class starting next week!”

Then she got huffy again. “Ohhh … Why don’t you just put the damned groceries away  yourself?!”

She stormed out of the kitchen a second time.

Despite the pain he managed to say rather loudly, ‘’But honey, zumba doesn’t USE exercise balls!’’

Just before the front door closed behind him he heard her yell, ’’Good! I didn’t want to take that stupid class anyway!”

He opened the driver side door of the Mustang, sat sideways butt first, slowly rotated his body while holding his right arm tightly with his left hand until he faced the front of the car.

His right arm was useless and it was impossible to reach across the steering wheel to the shift knob and steer at the same time, so he had to drive the Mustang in first gear all the way to the hospital five miles away!

While it seemed strange to him at the time and despite the pain, he laughed all the way to the hospital.

London Broil: the End Again

continued …  “she’ll just have to eat her goddamned popcorn with butter tonight  … !  he wondered if she’d know the difference … but, he knew better … )

Two hours later when he got home she was fast asleep in bed.

“Hmmmmm”, he thought.

He figured that, since the next day was Saturday (and she’d be sleeping in) he’d leave early for his appointment at Peter’s Quickie Loan Place (across the street from the Piggly Wiggly), pick up a couple tubs of margarine for the popcorn AND a couple pounds of butter, just in case!

He knew he’d have hell to pay if there wasn’t any butter in the house since she preferred only butter on her toast.

The End ..

London Broil: Butter or Parquay?

continued … when he doubled over she called him a doofey unemployed jake ass.  He laughed to himself.  ”What the hell is a ‘jake ass?”  he wondered.  continued …

Most nights after cleaning the kitchen he joined her in the t.v. room even though he hated that goddamned western channel …

He usually curled up with a book by his favorite author Louis L’Amor.

That one night she told him she wanted popcorn.

He took great pride in his popcorn making skills but that night they ran out of margarine!

(It was a mystery to him why she didn’t like butter on her popcorn.  He loved buttered popcorn!)

Maybe that’s why.   

“Wull,” he told her, ”There isn’t any margarine.”

But she insisted,

”The car’s got plenty of gas,” she said, “And i could use some quiet time.  So why don’t you just leave?” 

So, he drove 8 miles to the Piggly Wiggly in town but it was closed for the annual inventory.

So he drove around the corner to Charly’s Convenience Store but it must have burned down; the walls were charred black and the roof was missing.  

‘’I’ll be damed if I’ll drive another three miles over to Plank City for a tub of frickin’ Parkay,” he said to himself, out loud..

“She’ll just have to eat her goddamned popcorn with butter tonight!”

(He wondered if she’d know the difference but, he knew better.)

continued … 

London Broil

 They had meat for dinner almost every night.

But for months he had been eating tomatoes and feta cheese each night even though he hated feta cheese!

He couldn’t stand the taste and it made him sick!

She insisted all along he become a vegetarian and she insisted he eat feta cheese even though he loved meat and potatoes.

“Honey,” she said, “As long as you bring home the bacon you can have whatever you want!”

Which, this was the problem!

He hadn’t worked for months and tomatoes with feta cheese is a LOT cheaper than two people eating London broil!

(Even though they had plenty of money!)

He just shook his head.

But, why feta cheese he wondered ??

(She said it had something to do with goats milk and the symbiotic relationship goats have with tomatoes???)

She gloated it over him.  The meat thing, I mean.

And the fact that he wasn’t working.

Naturally, he didn’t want to make waves so he ate the damned feta cheese. (After all he WAS unemployed) But he would NOT give in when she asked if he liked the feta cheese!

She always laughed, “I can tell by the look on your face it sickens you!!!”

One night he had to leave the table after eating a piece with green mold!

(He hated bleu cheese even more!)

She followed him to the bathroom chortling the whole way!

’’I know why you’re sick you jake ass!’’ she said. “It’s that cheese you liar! You hate it!’’

He told her he thought it was something he ate at the unemployment office.

She laughed again!


“Probably one of those meaty hot dogs you like so much you meat eating, in denial, vegetarian!” she yelled. A shit eating grin on her face.

She put her arms around him which, he though was kind of nice (for a change), but she faked one of those knee jabs to his crotch!

When doubled over she called him a doofey unemployed flack ass!

“You doofey eyed unemployed flack ass!” She yelled laughing.

He smiled.

What’s a ‘flack ass’, he wondered?

continued …

It All Started At the Lodge That Sunday Night: The End

continued: I saw the glint she gets in her eyes when she thinks there’s a bar within reach.

– II –

“What are you looking at?”   I asked.

“Why don’t we go to the lodge so I can warm up by the fire and have a brandy?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “Why not? Maybe we could have a steak afterward.” But, she said the food at the lodge was lousy.

Then I thought, won’t she be surprised when she discovers they don’t have a fire place at that lodge?  It’s one of the worst lodges in town!  And it’s not that big of a town!

Then I thought, “Oh, oh.” when I remembered it was Sunday!

I was pretty sure they weren’t serving liquor on Sunday!

Boy was she mad!

That was about the funniest thing that happened all day!  You should have seen the look on her face!  It was pure irony!

Later, that evening around nine thirty ..

We got home around nine thirty.

She was angry and wouldn’t speak to me.

“You knew all along didn’t you!” she said.

“Well kind of.  But i was hoping.”

Pause.

Finally I said, “Well,  you know how it is!”

But she still didn’t believe me!

She walked away in a huff to take her evening bath but, the pilot light for the hot water heater had blown out and we didn’t have any God forsaken matches!  The ones we had were wet!!

Then she got sick!

I thought at first she might be pregnant!

I asked her but as soon as the words spilled out of my mouth I realized we hadn’t had sex in over a year!

She cried after that.

“I wasn’t going to tell you,” she said in between sobs and retching, “But, I’m pregnant with Dick’s baby!”

“Dick’s baby!”

“What a relief,” I thought! “I’d been wanting to break up with her for almost five years!”

“That son of a bitch Dick had actuality done me a favor!”

That Night At the Lodge II

Part II
A Night At the Lodge

It was a cold night!

I mean, it was cold as hell!

It felt like there was ice between my jacket and my shirt!

She had that mink thing on but it only covered her neck!

We stood outside waiting for about a half hour!  Finally I said, ‘’Where in the hell are Dick and Jeannie?“

She got that quizzical look on her face!

“UH-OH,”I thought.  “Here comes another one of her zingers!”

“I’m freezing my tukkus off!”  she exclaimed. “You told me it wouldn’t be that cold!”

I knew I had done no such thing.  So i said, “I did no such thing!’’

So she says, “Well, that’s what I’m talking about!!”

She was so angry she spit the words right out out of her mouth!

I told her I wasn’t really trying to be rude which didn’t seem to satisfy her at all so i said it again, hoping she’d understand!

But she didn’t.

She got mad as hell!

Then she became contrite.  She said she was sorry she was so mean. “You weren’t really being rude!” she said.   “But i still think it’s your fault!”

Then she said, “Truth of the matter is, I wasn’t paying attention to a word you said!”

Pause …

“I had other things on my mind!”

I didn’t want to be rude.  So I took the blame.

“I’m sorry,” I said.   “If I would have known.” Pause.  “I thought Dick and Jeannie were going to meet us here anyway!”

“Dick and Jeannie!  Fer christ’s sake they’re the last people I want to see on a night like this!”  Pause.  “I hate that Dick … !!” she said.  “He’s so goddamn irresponsible!”

I noticed she was looking over my shoulder at the bright lights of the lodge.

I saw the glint she gets in her eyes when she thinks there’s a bar within reach.

“What are you looking at?”  i asked.  continued.

A Night At the Lodge

It all started that night when I wasn’t sure what she was asking me!

At first I thought it had something to do with skiing!

Truth of the matter is I didn’t know WHAT she was thinking but I didn’t want to make waves.

I thought that maybe we were supposed to be meeting Dick and Jeannie for a night out at the lodge!

Or maybe it had something to do with that scheduled court date?

When you get right down to it, I didn’t really give a shit.  As far as I was concerned, it was six of one and one of those bakers dozen of the other … (haha heard someone say that once … it put a smile on my face.)

So i said “OK!”

You know! I had to be positive!!

I KNOW how she is about that ‘being positive’ stuff. She’s always stressing it so much!

Well, I think I AM positive but, does a little more than 50% of the time qualify as most of the time?

I’m not sure.

So I kept my mouth shut!

I didn’t want to hurt her feelings!!

Later that evening we drove out to the lodge. continued …

My Conversation With the Cat

My Conversation With the Cat

While my wife and I sipped morning tea I told my cat she was beautiful.

She squinted her eyes, flicked one ear, dropped to the floor, walked across the back of the ottoman, her tail the only thing visible, looking like a curved round feather moving along the edge, turned right then, right again slowly walking past us, her eyes slightly squinted.

She stopped, pointed the tip of her tail at the ceiling, drew three circles, dropped it to the left, sashayed it right then straight up before sitting faced away from us, her ears pointed back.

Since I understand cat language quite well, I told my wife about the language of cats.

“A cat’s thought vibrations connect to their tails the same way our thoughts link with our voices.’’

Pause …

“If you focus on their nuances, stop your mind from chattering (cats of course don’t think in terms of words) their thoughts can be understood quite easily.”

I looked at my wife. “The cat and I have conversations all day long.”

I looked at the cat.  One ear twitched.

My wife, who had been listening quietly, caught me off guard saying, “ARE YOU MAKING THIS STUFF UP!?”

For years I had observed my cat’s behavior but had not read a single word to support my claims.

All I could say was, “Well I guess so but … ”

And that’s when I found myself sitting alone with the cat.

 

I Was Just the Postman

 

A comment I wrote about the poem titled, “When I Was Born.”

This is one of my favorite pieces not just because it describes what childbirth might be like but, I think it’s beautifully written.  I like how it flows and trips along with cadence and sound.

Hey! I can comment about my own work can’t I?  It wasn’t even ‘Me’ who wrote the thing.  I remember it well.  “I felt a slight glow on the pads of my fingers a kind of pulsing and I began to stroke the keys and it felt like my digits were being guided by Aphrodite herself.”  

Not quite.  More like, my inner roulette wheel spinning words and with the luck of the draw I was able to catch a few every once in a while.

Anyway.  BIRTH!  The most significant event of our lives!  (And, at such a young age!)  After all being born into this fucked up world is no easy job.  It’s true!  Ask any new born kid!

Birth!  It’s the door we step through to gain entry into this place with its good and bad and every increment in between, evil and good and all the polar opposites that are the price we pay for living on a planet with a North and South Pole.  Shit!

Then, there’s the mistakes we make!  Think about how many concussions you’ve given yourself after slapping your self in the forehead saying, “You dumb shit!”  Or, I coulda’ had a V8 but with the can.

But that’s life!  Right?

The never ending parade that cascades before us, our journey through light with density that we are contained within and can exist in along with other beings just like us and we like them; plants and animals, trees and birds and all those finials from biology no species better or worse we think we are the high ideal but, all we’ve ever done is destroy things.

Yet, BIRTH continues.

Perhaps we judge our lives by how significantly apart we grow from the newborn child’s ultimate experience; the outside and the inside world coming face on with each other at birth, a double brightness, a kind of symbiotic relationship with light given/taken in/returned/then, given back in a never ending cycle.

Just like love and marriage.  Right?  Except, you can’t have one without the other.

Or, on the abstract level, seen in its entire and completely different and absurd light and really hard to understand level; if a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it is there a noise?

THAT’S ONE FOR THE AGES ISN’T IT REXI?.  Fuck yes! There’s NOISE because there’s SOUND because the WHOLE PLACE heard the tree fall by the birds and the other trees and the lichen and the bear who was rubbing his butt when the tree fell.  Jeez.  What a ridiculous posit that, if a human being wasn’t present there MIGHT NOT be no sound.  That’s kind of pre infantile thinking isn’t it?  Oh?  It’s not important?  Good.

(That, and the angels dancing on the heads of pins discussion always gets me.  Sooooo interesting.  Someone should put THAT posit on a post it note and file it in the floor file.)

I think that every day it’s possible that at some point in time when time is the right time and the stars and all that other crap fit together just right I could find myself in the ‘real’ world behind all of the facades of daily life.  We need those facades but they can be all consuming!

To suddenly experience the revery of speechless awe at the world around us.  We all KNOW that other place is here, waiting to be experienced.  Is that desire what keeps us going?

I think that, as life moves along we judge the degrees of success with our lives by the baseline of CHILDBIRTH.  Which brings us back to the poem.

The words in that poem flowed through my fingers with such DELIGHT!

Wull … it’s ok to comment on my own work isn’t it? Actually, I don’t even know who wrote this piece remember?  I was just the postman.  Check out the post, “When I Was Born.”  I hope you like it as much as I do.  Au’revoir.

 

 

The Creature From the Black Canal

The Creature From the Black Canal

They kept warning me about the alligator they saw paddling around the canal in back of the house but, I scoffed at their advice. “I need to whack those weeds along the canal bank!  They’re unsightly!” I said.

I waited until mid afternoon so I could work in the shade of the big pine trees back there. “Who wants to whack weeds in ninety nine degree heat?  I can’t lay around all day!”

At the shoreline I turned away from the water to whack weeds within the stalks of the banana trees when I felt a sharp tug on my right foot then, intense needle like pain!

I looked down. My ankle was between its teeth! The last thing I remember was water being forced into my nostrils and a sense of hopelessness.

I woke up sputtering and retching in the hammock under the pines out back where I had been resting after weed whacking the bank. At first I thought I was drowning! Then I realized I had poured an entire bottle of Fuji water onto my face most of it having drained into my nostrils.

While coughing violently, I happened to look down at the canal where I saw two giant marbles a little smaller than tennis balls floating on the surface.

When a paddle shaped, warty snout with two puncture holes at the end and what appeared to be thousands of teeth (although there could have been more) began to rise out of the water, I knew I had come face to face with a big alligator!

A big fugator!!

Still coughing violently I scanned the area for a limb to throw at the big fucker when the hammock I’d been dozing on flipped me!

The canvas had wrapped itself around me!!  I was trapped like an ear of corn!!

I swayed like a pendulum for around 30 seconds before coming to rest my head 12 inches or so above ground staring down at the gator, my world turned upside down, my arms clasped along both sides of my body feeling totally helpless.

What made it even worse, the Fuji bottle had lodged itself against my nuts!

The gator took two steps onto land its beakey snout with all those teeth leading the way.

Feeling paralyzed, I sensed the reticular area of my brain frozen in place,  totally confused since fight or flight was not an option so, I did the only thing I COULD do.

I struggled!!

“Would you like some cheeze and crackers?”

Her voice pierced into my consciousness like a bright ray of light on the darkest day. Hallaleuia … I’ve been saved!

Her appearance or the sound of her voice startled the gator. Quicker than splickity shit  all I could see was white water froth, little whirl pools and the yaw of its rounded beak slinking into the inky depths of the water.

She didn’t look down quickly enough to see the gator’s snout and those teeth before it disappeared. She thought the movement of the water was caused by turtles. She warned me again about the gator they had seen.

A half hour later, finally free from the clutches of the hammock I ate two crackers with cheeze and threw up.

I Wasn’t Even Trying To Be Funny Or, How A Chorus of G Notes Changed My Life

I Wasn’t Even Trying To Be Funny

I wasn’t looking forward to going into the office because according to procedures, paper work is to be turned in the next day before ten o’clock and I was already one day late PLUS I’d be going in after ten o’clock.

On top of that, when I’ve done something wrong, I get intimidated by all the women at the office. I know they talk so, I knew they were all aware that, once again I didn’t get my paperwork in on time.

Sometimes I feel like they gang up on me.  Or, maybe I’m just paranoid.

I don’t want to dwell on my paranoid feelings about women though.  Shit happens to me every day not just in the office but, all over the place. I’m not sure if it’s interesting or funny.  It doesn’t have anything to do with women per se.  It is what it is but, sometimes when it’s all over with at the end of the day, I get a chuckle out of reliving all the crazy shit that happens.

Before I left the house I made sure all the information on the forms was filled out correctly.  I’ve made every mistake in the book when it comes to filling out those forms.  I don’t want to be classified with people who are either dumb or crazy based on the definition that, if you keep making the same mistake over and over you’re one of them.

Then I drove over to the office. I parked my car in the circular drive out front and left the motor running thinking that if I needed an excuse for a quick getaway I could always say, ‘’Hey, I gotta go… I left my car running,’’ which … well, I do this all the time and I always think I’m so fricking smart but I’ve never once used it as an excuse to leave.   Sometimes I get stuck in there for 15 or 20 minutes just jabbering, while my car runs.  The whole time I’m involved in some inane conversation I’m thinking about how much gas I’m wasting and how ridiculous I was to leave the car running.

Before I go in, I always think it’s such a great excuse to leave but after I’m in there, it seems like a shitty excuse to be rude. continued ….

Miriam

Miriam

He told me about the time he was at the hospital a year ago at the same time he would be at the same hospital this year, in the same room where last year he suffered the same procedure as he would be suffering this year .. exactly a year later.

He told me about the great nurses and others who cared for him then, he told me a tale about some crazy stuff that happened one night that no one would have ever dreamed could happen.

He laughed that Sinead O’Connor laugh while shaking his head from side to side, “Not I,” he said. “Or, the hospital staff, the bouncer who looked like he wanted to kick my ass, or that Air Force Academy guy who was the charge nurse downstairs.”

Laughing he said, “But, then how can anyone anticipate the world suddenly collapsing around you after you’ve had some crazy idea? Life has its ups and downs but the sloppy fit between a crazy thought becoming a crazy idea leading to some crazy behavior tightens like welded steel since you NEVER know when some crazy IDEA is gonna pop into your brain!”

I didn’t understand a word he said but, he ket  piquing my interest as the night wore on.

The world seen through the eyes of my grandfather Gile Steel would be an interesting one, indeed.

 

More Miriam ……

 

 

 

Deadbeat Amputee

Deadbeat Amputee

Oh! Hi! … OH! Jeeze. Hi … Hey, you know what?  I’m a bad person!

I was tied up for a whole week so I couldn’t send you the money.

My wife finally came home from Borneo and untied me from the hose I got wrapped up in when I fell hosing the back porch back on the day she left.

I really wanted to send $10 via Pay Pal!

The computer was close but I couldn’t get my right hand free and my left hand was amputated a few years back.

I thought I could reach the keyboard with my nose.  I tried so hard!  But no cigar!

And I live in a community of deaf mutes.  So, no one heard my cries for help … and  I couldn’t do sign language with just the stump!  It was So frustrating!

Do you still need the money? Hahaha … who doesn’t need money, right?

Oh!? .. O.k. … o.k. …  ok so, can I send you a check in a couple days??

#6 .. Transponding Transexual Transfers: A Detrimental Exchange Between Two Trainspotters From: Songs Heard But, Immediately Forgotten #6

#6

How are the transplants doing?

 I’ll send pics. By the way, I had an epiphany when I separated the word trans from plants. Maybe I understand what transgender means now. Isn’t it kind of like almost sorta like grafting a tree?

There’s a series on TV called Transparent.  It’s about a father who becomes a female. Get it? Trans-parent?

Transparenting! I get it! Long distance truckers are backing a bill … oh never mind … maybe there’ll be a day when one single person can fertilize an egg AND birth the child. Transporting through trans sexual transitioning of sexual roles …

I heard there was a problem.  One of the trannies didn’t tell the other he was a male and ended up fuc ….. oh!  sorry … ! Better let that one go.

Lets stick to walnuts and oranges here. I heard there’s new variety of tree called Mueslix tree.

Good god! The wonders of science! What will they think of next?  Dehydrated water?

I heard it’s on the distant horizon! I also heard they’re working on parachutes that are so light they can hang on clouds!  What do you think of that?

I think I want a trans brain. Maybe I could have part of Brian’s brain so I can recite complete movie scripts, have an engineer’s spacial perception and make really funny faces at the same time.

I hate it when he makes those faces! It ruins the story.  They’re so grotesque I forget what the story’s about.

Well .. you gotta take the good with the bad with this trans stuff.

Yeah like, maybe shit’s trans since it’s soil that hasn’t come out of the closet? And what about these trans fats? Does cream come from cows who have been blindfolded since birth?

I don’t get it?

Neither do I.  A second ago it made perfect sense but when I said it I got confused.

You just lost your thread.

It felt like I lost the whole spool there for a second.  Maybe it was my train of thought?  Maybe I need a train spotter.

That’s probably it.  Hey … maybe I can get a trans brain from Jay Leno so part of the time I could be funny and not morose all the time.

That way when you got depressed you’d call it trans bi-polar temporary insanity.

Temporary insanity! That’s ok!  I can live with that. The rest of the time I’d be a laugh riot!

They’d have to keep an eye on you.  Laughing rioters are a menace! They think nothing of calling Grant’s tomb the funniest thing since chocolate pie.

They’d use trainspotter’s to keep an eye open for me, wouldn’t they?!  Oh .. Hey!  Call one to those gestalt cars to transport me away from this silly shit will you?

Why don’t we just have another cup of coffee and a piece of pie.

Are you buying?

I haven’t the faintest.

Well then ,,, I don’t mind if I do.

Nick Makes A Funny Joke For Jessica

 

Nick and Jessica email each other.

Jessica’s email address is niksgal@aol.com.

Nick’s email address is nikoteen@gmail.com

Nick types in niksgal@aol.com.

Nick is chuckling because he thinks jessica”s going to think the joke he’s about to send her … is really funny …  Nick doesn’t expect Jessica to have a laugh orgasm which is a common occurrence between nick and jessica when think something is really funny.  the joke isn’t orgasmic but nick thinks she’ll think it’s cute and funny.  she loves nick’s sense of humor because most of it is really dumb.  which …, Jessica is the queen of sarcasm.  so, you put two and two together.

well any way Nick types in Jessica’s name sends her a quick email. “I’m sending you a good joke i made up Jessica.  I want to know if you think it’s funny.  ok?

send ……………………………………………..

Jessica writes back immediately.

“Send it on baby!  I can’t wait I hope it’s what i’ve been waiting for all day!”

Nick smiles while typing his joke:

hey jess?  do you know the difference between yaaaaaaaa ! … and ayyyyyyyy !  I assume you don’t Jessica otherwise i’d know you knew.  the differenc is ….

yaaaa … is a person cheering while facing you.  ayyyyyyy … a person cheering FACING AWAY FROM YOU!

It’s a yucker isn’t it jessica?  admit it …

……………

jessica writes back …

i love it Nick … kind makes you want to go to two football games on opposite ends of town doesn’t it?

Nick lays his head on the counter top where he’s typing … and can’t stop laughing …

Nick thinks jessica is the funniest person in the whole world  …. hahaha …..

Grand Canyon Phil

Grand Canyon Phil

 Lynn started having severe headaches a year and a half after marrying Phil who considered himself a libertarian pledged to be a pain in the ass to every person he met.

One summer they were on vacation at the Grand Canyon riding donkeys down a trail along the canyon wall around 200 feet above the Rio Grande.

The trail widened just as Phil called the guy in front of him a fucking jack ass.

Lynn pulled up next to Phil.

‘’The nerve of him,’’ she thought to herself. ‘’I’ve about had it with this asshole.’’

The word ‘’asshole’’ escaped from her lips.

When Phil looked at Lynn everyone in the group looked at Phil.  Lynn dug her fingernails around the top of Phil’s shoulder.

The last thing Phil saw before a tumbling blend of spectacular Grand Canyon colors enhanced by an immense orange setting sun was, Lynn’s smiling face mouthing the words, ‘’Good by asshole.’’

When they returned topside the entire group reaffirmed Lynn’s version of the story.  Phil had leaned over too far while yelling “fuck off’’ to the group leader and had fallen over the edge of the gorge.

That night Lynn drove eastward toward Las Vegas.

Phil’s body was never found.

A Day In the Life

continued …… I HAPPENED TO PASS BY THE LAUNDRY ROOM ON THE WAY TO THE BATHROOM, I SAW SOME JEANS THAT NEEDED TO GO INTO THE DRYER … 

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… so i put them into the dryer then I started to move the furniture back to where I wanted it.  When I finished I remembered I was going to take a shower so I went in and took all the tools out of the tub,  that I had brought in earlier.

I grabbed my tools put them where they needed to be then  … Oh!  There’s that sandwich! I hadn’t eaten it all.  So I continued eating the sandwich while walking around looking for my camera (so i could take a before and after picture of the tub) when I remembered taking some cool pictures a couple of days ago … I decided to take a look a them … so i sat down, logged in,  started to peruse when i looked over and saw two globs of grape jelly on the floor … shit!

after considering my options i grabbed an old wash cloth, wet it down in the bathroom and wiped up the jelly … ummm i wonder if i should throw the washcloth in the laundry basket … hell yes, so i threw it into the laundry basket then,  i remembered there was dirt in the tub from my tools.

So while I was in the laundry room I grabbed the shop vac went into the bathroom and and sucked it up …  CONTINUED ….. WHILE SUCKING  I NOTICED HOW LOUSY THE BASEBOARDS … A Day In the Life ………

A Day In the Life

 A Day In the Life
Prologue

Night words floated out of reach ‘till almost
dawn …

Then, morning, noon and night passed by,
my wings still clipped;

(far too many extraneous thoughts
lurking in my peripheral vision

kept me from taking
flight …)

I knew i’d get
my inspiration back

i just knew it … !

Next morning I returned to work confident/not expecting the pain of
thought rejection

I worked on what little I’d started the
night before but

All I did was massacre the words …

Take life out of the thoughts …

Resigned to being a dullard I thought,

“Why not do something useful in the real world
for a change?”

What resulted is the story of a day in my ‘real world’
that day I decided to do something ‘useful’.

I looked around for something to do then  …

Part I

“Ahaa!,” I thought, “I’ll work on the tub!”

I began visualizing my moves; writing problems down, making a materials list. It felt good that to be taking the time to plan the job since I thought of problems that wouldn’t have occurred to me if I’d have jumped in there head first!

As I was leaving the bathroom, I realized I hadn’t eaten.

That’s when I got sick to my stomach.

So I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on toast …  threw down my meds, drank a cup of coffee, while bouncing around listening to Kincade or Underworld, wondering what i was going to do next, when I happened to pass by the laundry room where I saw a pair of jeans that needed to be thrown into the dryer …

continued …

ZUMBA MY ASS!

Once again he was saddened by the thought that, “She never thinks i’m funny!“

Most of the things HE thought were funny, SHE thought were either stupid or sexually degenerate.

She hated the word ‘’shit’’ which he thought was the funniest word in the English language!

And she didn’t think sex was funny which he thought was even funnier than the word shit!

She used to say, “i don’t appreciate your barnyard humor.’’

He remembered the time she stormed out of the room after he said,  “I’d love to be able to fly like a bird but, I wouldn’t want to BE a bird because when they have sex it’s over after a couple of quick thrusts!”

She said something over her shoulder as she stormed out of the room. All he heard was, “Compared to you.” He didn’t catch the rest.

Strange as it seems, he chuckled at the craziness of the situation.

“IT’S OK she doesn’t get it most of the time!’’ he thought.  “Fer crying out loud you can’t connect on everything!”

Still, he hoped that occasionally she’d laugh at what he DID or SAID to BE funny instead of the unintentional things that happened which she thought were  hilarious!

Like the time he was carrying the groceries in from the car, tripped over that stupid exercise ball she never used, fell and broke his shoulder!

She laughed so hard she didn’t even hear his pleas to call 911!

(The next day she told him she laughed so hard she peed her pants!)

Through the haze of pain he thought, “Well, at least she’s laughing!”

But then she got pissed because the exercise ball hit a nail and went flat.

As she walked out of the room the last thing he heard was, ‘’Call 911 yourself you clumsy ass. It’s your own damn fault! “

He had to fish the phone out of his back pocket. (Which isn’t an easy task when you’re lying on the floor with a broken shoulder. But the battery was dead!)

A moment  later she came back into the kitchen.

She began picking up the groceries but she ignored him.

“But you’ve never used that thing!”,  he said. “It’s bleached out from lying outside in the sun for TWO YEARS! After the first year, I made a landscape ornament out of that damn thing!”

She stared hard at him saying, “Well, I WAS thinking of joining that zumba class starting next week!”

Then she got huffy again. “Why don’t you just put the damned groceries away  yourself?!”

She stormed out of the kitchen a second time.

Despite the pain he yelled, ‘’But zumba doesn’t USE exercise balls!’’

The last thing he heard before the door slammed was, ’’Good! I didn’t want to take that stupid class anyway!”

Later …

His right arm was useless and it was impossible to reach across the steering wheel to the shift knob and steer at the same time, so he had to drive the Mustang in first gear all the way to the hospital five miles away!

While it seemed strange to him at the time and despite the pain, he laughed all the way to the hospital.

The Big Fugator From the Black Canal

They warned me about that alligator they’d seen in the canal out back. I scoffed at their advice.

“But I need to weed whack along the shoreline,” I said.

Later, when I turned around to whack weeds between the banana trees I felt a tug then, sharp pain.

Looking down I saw teeth clamped around my ankle.

The last thing I remember was water forced into my nostrils and a sense of hopelessness.

I woke from my nap on the hammock sputtering, thinking I was drowning! Then I realized I had poured an entire bottle of Fuji water onto my face most of it having drained into my nose.

Hacking violently, I looked down at the canal where I saw two giant marbles slightly smaller than tennis balls floating on the surface.

When a warty snout began moving up the bank I knew I had come face to face with an alligator! A big fugator!

I looked for a limb to throw at the big fucker when the hammock flipped. I was trapped! Wrapped up in canvas like an ear of corn!!

I swayed like a pendulum before coming to rest, my head 12 inches above ground, arms clenched against my body, the Fuji bottle pressed against my crotch, watching the Gator creep up the bank, feeling totally helpless.

Between howls of laughter I heard, “Would some cheese and crackers improve your standard of living?”

Her appearance startled the gator. Quick as a lick it slid into the water; white froth and small whirlpools the only evidence it existed.

She thought turtles made the froth.

Once again she warned me about the gator.

A half hour later, free from the hammock’s grip I ate two crackers with cheese and threw up.

Butter or Parkay/Or Is It Parkay Or Butter??

continued

… when he doubled over she called him a
doofey fake vegetarian unemployed jack ass.

He smiled.  “What’s a jake ass,” he thought? 

Part II

Most nights after cleaning the kitchen he joined in the t.v. room even though he hated that western channel.

He usually curled up with a book by favorite author Louis L’amor.

One night she wanted popcorn.

He took great pride in his popcorn making skills but on that one particular night they had run out of margarine.

Why she didn’t like butter on her popcorn he didn’t know.

He loved buttered popcorn! Maybe that was the reason?

She insisted on having popcorn that night even though they had no margarine.

“The car’s got plenty of gas,” she said, “And I need some quiet time while you’re gone.’’

He drove eight miles to the Piggly Wiggly but it was closed for the annual inventory.  So he drove around the corner to Charley’s  Convenience Store but it must have burned down.  The walls were charred black and the roof was missing.

So there was no place he could get margarine.

“I’ll be damed if I’ll drive another ten miles to Plank City for a tub of Parkay,” he said out loud.

“She’ll just have to eat her goddamned popcorn with butter tonight,” he thought.

He wondered if she’d know the difference. But he knew better.

By the time he got back she had gone to bed.

Since the next day was Saturday he figured he’d leave early for his appointment at that quickly loan place next to the Piggly Wiggly.

He knew he’d have hell to pay in the morning if he didn’t pick up a pound of butter just in case … since she preferred butter on her toast.

I’ll Have London Broil and Feta Cheese With Extra Tomato On the Side

 They had meat for dinner almost every night.

But for months he had been eating tomatoes and feta cheese each night even though he hated feta cheese!

He couldn’t stand the taste and it made him sick!

She insisted all along he become a vegetarian and she insisted he eat feta cheese even though he loved meat and potatoes.

“Honey,” she said, “As long as you bring home the bacon you can have whatever you want!”

Which, this was the problem!

He hadn’t worked for months and tomatoes with feta cheese is a LOT cheaper than two people eating London broil!

(Even though they had plenty of money!)

He just shook his head.

But, why feta cheese he wondered ??

(She said it had something to do with goats milk and the symbiotic relationship goats have with tomatoes???)

She gloated it over him.  The meat thing, I mean.

And the fact that he wasn’t working.

Naturally, he didn’t want to make waves so he ate the damned feta cheese. (After all he WAS unemployed) But he would NOT give in when she asked if he liked the feta cheese!

She always laughed, “I can tell by the look on your face it sickens you!!!”

One night he had to leave the table after eating a piece with green mold!

(He hated bleu cheese even more!)

She followed him to the bathroom chortling the whole way!

’’I know why you’re sick you jake ass!’’ she said. “It’s that cheese you liar! You hate it!’’

He told her he thought it was something he ate at the unemployment office.

She laughed again!


“Probably one of those meaty hot dogs you like so much you meat eating, in denial, vegetarian!” she yelled. A shit eating grin on her face.

She put her arms around him which, he though was kind of nice (for a change), but she faked one of those knee jabs to his crotch!

When doubled over she called him a doofey unemployed flack ass!

“You doofey eyed unemployed flack ass!” She yelled laughing.

He smiled.

What’s a ‘flack ass’, he wondered?

continued …

The Case of the Missing Furniture

The Case of the Missing Furniture

Chapter I

Thursday morning I think I awoke from what I thought was a dream; doors banging open and shut echoed throughout the house/the four walls devoid of shadows looked strange and naked.  The outlets seemed bored without their plugs.

I knocked on every door and looked inside. Nothing!

Was it a dream?

Chapter 2

That morning I drank my coffee on the porch the yellow sun on my feet my face in shadow, before realizing every stick of furniture had disappeared!

I called the police!

Chapter 3

Two cops told me, “Something has to be missing for two days before it’s missing.”

“But what if its all on a big semi headed for North Carolina or down by the Swale River holding the asses of some homeless people drinking their muscatel, red stains all over on the arms?’’ I replied.

They left in a huff shouting,  “Homeless people are out of our jurisdiction!”

Chapter 4

Hmmm … I remembered seeing the E.M.T. people around.  Maybe they were in disguise that day?

Shit!  Then I remembered!  The E.M.T.’s had visited my house at least ten days prior.

(They told me I was having an anxiety attack.  I wouldn’t tell them my chair was a giant hand threatening to pull me into some abscess below the foundation of the house.  I hid my feelings but, what a ridiculous thought!  I live on a cement slab!!)

“But I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

Chapter 5

A while later I said good bye despite her offer to tell me everything she knew.

“I’m perfectly happy,” I said, “wondering what happened. I don’t need to know any answers.”

I left.

Chapter 6

I stuck out my thumb.  Houses and bison sped by for quite some time.

Chapter 7

Whew!  Finally,  it seemed I had arrived. 

The driver .. an attractive 30’s something police officer her auburn colored hair pulled back so tightly it seemed her eyebrows were in suspended animation (giving her a look of constant wide eyed wonder), wearing a green uniform, a gold badge attached to her breast pocket .. told me her name was Devereaux. 

She opened the door.  I stepped inside.

“So, where are you taking me?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she said turning her head back toward where I sat, a smile of wide eyed wonder on at least half of her face.

“Well yes,” I said indignantly.  Then, “Does this have anything to do with my missing furniture?”

Flip the Bird

images copy 42

Flip the Bird

I was driving south on U.S. 41 in the middle lane around five thirty, hungry as hell, anxious to get home but not looking forward to another microwave chicken pot pie (I hate to cook when i have to eat by myself) when I spotted my favorite Italian restaurant so I thought, why not have Italian tonight?

When I veered out of the middle lane a whole series of sights and sounds followed; the deafening blast of a diesel horn, the sight of rubber flapping behind four huge spinning tires, the blaring horn of a car growing louder as bright blue LED lights filled the passenger side window, followed by the sight of a boy riding a bicycle veering off the side of the road flashing me the bird while disappearing down a steep embankment.

As my tires dropped onto the gravel parking lot I glanced to the right just as the boy and his bicycle disappeared into the thick growth of cat tails at the bottom of the swale.

I looked up just in time to avoid side swiping a black Mustang. The owner, his body extended half way out of the car window his lip curled into a snear, his face not 18 inches from mine shouting, “Why don’t you learn how to drive you dumb fuck!” looked like he wanted to kick my ass.

I cut the wheel avoiding the back panel by about six inches, kept my eye on the rear view mirror to see if the guy would get out of his car while at the same time wondering if I had enough room to hang a U turn and get the hell out of there when I remembered a GT emblem on the front of his car and realized it would be impossible to outrun the guy.

When I heard the rumble of the GT’s 425 horses I looked back just in time to see a cloud of rocks, pebbles and stones shot like grapeshot from beneath the Mustang’s spinning tires against the passenger side and back window of the Aztec.

The guy fish tailed out of the parking lot, hit the concrete, squealed his tires for about 100 yards, his middle finger visible above the roof line before veering into the maze of traffic.

Safely inside the restaurant I was finally able to place my order but decided to ‘take out’ since i was pretty shook up.

Back home I flipped on Orphan Black, sat down to eat then got so freeking pissed off I completely lost my appetite!

Dammit!  This was the second time in a year they forgot to put extra pepperoni on my Domino’s Pizza!

Knowing That We Knew It All Along!

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it slowly started appearing for a long time

but I didn’t realize it until it appeared all the time

then I thought back and realized that it HAD been appearing …

and i knew it had been appearing

even when it slowly started appearing a long time ago

when I didn’t realize it!
way back when it first started happening

i didn’t realize it at all!

but i KNEW it all the time …

And now it’s here all the time!

I thought back to
when I didn’t realize it

when it slowly started happening
and now, realizing it was happening …

knowing now it happens all the time
i now know i knew it all along!

how funny!

i knew it was appearing!

i knew it was happening!

but i didn’t know it at the time

i KNEW IT ALL ALONG!!!  Ha Ha Ha ……

after all that time!!

Oops! Sorry! We’ll Do The World Series After I Tell This Tale of Horror …

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It was like a scene from a cheap horror movie except … it was real! I wasn’t dreaming!

At least I didn’t think I was … it was THAT REAL!

End: Prologue
continuing …
Cuspy

It all started around five thirty you know, at the ‘cuspy’ time of day.

(Now i know why they call it the ‘crack between the worlds’. But I didn’t know it at the TIME!)

By the time it ended I was gonna call but, after two hours I still couldn’t catch my breath!

At that point I wasn’t even sure I knew who I was!

The phone wasn’t charged anyway. So, I decided to wait.

In the meantime I wiped out that salad bowl.

I KNOW I know! I know how that pisses you off but, what the hell! It looks like real wood to me!

Besides that … what could I do? I was wide awake!

(To be honest with you I was a little afraid to sleep. “That’s funny!” I thought! “Maybe i WAS sleeping.” hahaha ….. )

End: Post Prologue

continuing …

My skin was still crawling!

End
Post Post Prologue

continuing …

I was reading that book about Mars. Our Mars it’s called. Out of this world stories about canals and spires and shit like that, when I decided to make a cup of latte.

I like my latte sweet. This time it was a little too sweet but I didn’t think anything of it.

Little did I know!  (Shit like that happens all the time to me.)

See, I didn’t really care.  I was in one of those moods. You know how I get … kind of antsy.

So, like I said, it was ‘cuspy’ out there on the patio.

End: Chapter I

continuing …

I sat down at the little sette’.  I took a couple sips of that sweet latte.

I set the latte on the glass coffee table.

I looked around.

At first I thought, “It’s pretty light out there for being ‘cuspy’,” but within seconds that passed.

I KNEW the sun had shifted because “BAMM!” Like I said, there I was in the cusp!  The “Crack between the worlds!”

Or, like I like to say, ‘The butt crack between the worlds.” hahaha …. Except, at the time I didn’t realize it.

continuing …
Next:
Googling Sucubus, Incubus and Vlad the Impaler …

Me and I and Myself

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I hadn’t seen myself in a while.

We had a lot of catching up to do.

There was non stop talking!

I wished I’d shut up sometimes but …….

I understand …

Most of the time we’re ‘buds’ but
well … there WAS a lot of catching up to do and

sometimes it’s so
fun!

And here’s what else ….

I can ……. YELL … ! and it’s no problem because
I know we both know
what I’m
yelling about !

It’s WHAT I’M YELLING ABOUT STUPID!

Oh … ! Sorry … !

I get carried away sometimes …

Coney

images-1So … you and Coney made two … right?

Well I mean like, how can you resist Coney’s charms?

Ummmmm  …. have you had Coney and chardanodweez …!

The perfect red wine to go with Coney to …

to PONY!!  … BOOGEDY SHOOP!

Yeeeeeeeee … Haaaa … !    Boy howdy, I bet that Coney was good …….  wasn’t it?!

No ……… ?

You didn’t have a Coney?

I’m not speaking to you for a week!

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Life Is A Mirage

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… But!  I have the words so why shouldn’t I use them while I still have the time?!..

That said.

You’d think I’d consider the sensibility of the subject totally incoincidental of its meaning don’t you?   But, I don’t.

I was after all, “laced up in the shoes of indistinct possibilities wading over a river on slippery rocks,” that day.  

The sea, the air and all above  had already risen into submission.  With farthest tense possible!

What could I do?  Stand and wait?

Those outraged and out sensed?   THEY were the bright beacons of suspense!

They … and the dark elements of their discoveries were well beyond even the broken strength of steel!!

Night by night they squallored their lives in the material world strengthening their forces making strong, their learning curves arching/in suspense/waiting.

When sun rose that first day came a crack between the cold gray sky.

Came the drama of first sight.

Came feathers etched by first  fire’s light

and their journey began!!

Nick and Jessica: TSA, Latinos, Playgrounds, Pocket Knives, Ricky Ricardo, Field Hockey and Blowing Water Out of Your Mouth Like They Do In Those Old Funny Movies

images-6…. so, the TSA guys were Cuban or whatever and we were having this bullshit conversation yukking it up about knives and shoe bombs. Everyone was Latino and they looked at me all askance probably surprised since white people are such tight asses.  Maybe they were surprised they found one who didn’t really give a shit about walking around keagling all day.

That’s quite a generalization about white people don’t you think?

Ok so, I told you about the knife right?   I didn’t even see this coming. One of the baggage agents at the check in counter … I swear he looked exactly like Ricky … what’s his name the singer …

Ricardo?

Noooooo, you dumb shit.  Whatever ….. the guy volunteers to go out to the plane with my pocket knife,  find my bag and put the knife in my bag! Wow …

And you attribute this to …

I had just arrived at that particular playground. These guys were standing around looking bored. So, we played a game and we had a good time. The cool thing is, it was just another playground in town. I might not ever go back there again but … that’s beside the point.

Ok Nick. It’s a small town … what are you trying to say … life is a small town? It’s a playing field … does this have anything to do with field hockey?  I used to play field hockey, you know.

Field hockey! Field hockey! (Nick chuckles, his stomach bumps up and down), Jeeeeezus Jessica, he says shaking his head then keening .. You make me laugh …

Pause for composure.

Aren’t you lucky stupid is funny Jessica? Like, what if you were really smart? (Nick quietly explains. A serious look on his face.) You probably wouldn’t be HALF as funny.  ……….. if you were smart I mean.

Jessica’s mouth is pulled to the side.

Nick sips water from a glass he’s holding.
Jessica’s eyes are beaming.
Turning, she slowly walks away.
Nick holds the glass to his mouth barey drinking thinking, watching wondering …
Jessics turns the corner.  Gone from sight.
Nick continues to drink water.
Jessica’s face looks around the corner at Nick.

Nick is caught totally by surprise.  His mouth full of water, unable to control himself,  he sprays water into the air:  a combination of mist and large drops and some residual dripping down his chin.

Nick and Jessica are both laughing.

“That’ll teach you to make fun of me.”

Did you see that?! I thought they only did that in movies … hahahah ….

Nick moves closer.. stops two feet away then, closer …

Nick and Jessica are nose to nose all but touching their eyes fixated, smiles on their faces

Nick whispers under his breath ….

Boughebaise Soup

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There was that time in New York

when I had Boughebaise soup.

I spent way too much time opening

all those shells.

And the broth wasn’t that great!

I like to eat my food.

I don’t want to play with it first.

I was reminded of the time

when the dispenser machine was broken

and I had to open a dozen packets of ketchup

before I could eat my

whopper ….

Nick and Jessica Ask: Why Was the Telephone Invented? Was I Because Of the G Spot?

Here’s a funny one that happened at the office the other day,  Jessica..

Lay it on me Nick.  Oops!  Did that come out wrong?

I think you said, ”Lay on me?”

He he he … !  Shut up Nick .  Maybe I did but … tell the frickin’ story will you?  (Nick and Jessica smile at each other.)

Wull, one day last week there was a work assignment so they called but, I missed the call.  A little while later I showed up at the office. This is what happened.

Pause …

Ok so, the three of them were talking.  I was doing my paper work when Carol, she’s real aggressive says, ‘’Why do you think phones were invented?’’

For some reason I stared over at Suzanne’s office, behind the wall on the other side of Carol’s desk, into the space between the edge of the open door and the window on the far wall.

Don’t ask me why I looked at that particular spot. I just raised my head and fixated on that spot for a split second.

I was thinking about Linda’s question, wondering why telephones WERE invented. My first conclusion was , I knew damn well telephones weren’t invented so that people could be called for work assignments.

Well you know I was being completely over analytic …

As usual …

… coming up with all kinds of conflicting thoughts. For a split second I even saw Alexander Graham Bell calling his assistant, what was his name ? ….. was it Watson…? to come upstairs because he had spilled some chemical on his hand.

All of this thinking and wondering happened within a split second but, I guess the timing was just right … you know, one beat, two beat.

Pause ..

Are you waiting for me to start playing the drums on the table Nick?   Hey I never realized you’re a door peeper!

You learn something every day don’t you Jessica?

Silence …

Anyway, I guess they were waiting to hear what I was going to say so, there was some suspense in the air when suddenly I realized I didn’t know why in the hell the telephone was invented.

I felt this kind of confused or maybe it was a concerned look, come over my face. I said, ‘’Wull .. to tell you the truth I don’t know WHY the telephone was invented.’’

I guess I hit three funny bones at the same time since a wall of sound washed over me … you know, that high pitched cackling sound women make when they all start laughing at the same time? It practically threw my head back. I thought I may have aggravated an old football injury.  Don’t they call that the G note, or something like that?

I think you got it all wrong there Nick.  But it would be my pleasure to enlighten you on the difference when the time is right.  

Oh yeah … right!  Jeeze Jess, I’m pretty excited about that.  Isn’t the time at hand always right time, Jess?

Nick looks at Jessica … a sly look on his face.

Don’t get sidetracked Nick.  Gimme the punch line o.k.?

O.K. So, what’s funny is, I wasn’t even trying to be funny. I think it was one of those moments when you find yourself being honest in an almost unconscious way.

The words just popped out of me.  It seemed like I was having one of those out of body experiences.

The thought of total and complete honesty is so far from people’s minds … maybe because it’s so rare… it catches people totally unaware; it’s totally unexpected and… then it makes them laugh.

Gosh Nick, you’re so funny.  Even when you’re not trying to be funny ‘yer funny aren’t you?   

Pause …

Goshdarnit Nick!  You showed ’em whose boss didn’t you?  Real power comes in response to that G spot … I mean note … 

Wull, you’re damn right Jessica.  They won’t do that again! (Nick looks at Jessica, a ridiculously serious look on his face. Jessica’s eyebrows are arched in mock seriousness.)

Nick and Jessica dissolve into laughter.  Pause …

Now, what about that G thing Jess?

He he he …. 

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Revealed

Nick and Jessica Discuss College Level Sex Education

Another look at Nick and Jessica sparring about their favorite subject.  Sex!  Sex and laughing!  “Wull, they’re almost the same aren’t they,” says Nick.  Must be so.  It looked like they both were having orgasms a while ago even though they were laughing.  You be the judge ..

O.K. so, let me get this straight.  You are going to tell me some important definitive facts about male sexuality that you learned in some bogus college level sex-ed class you took, that I would have known about since, we both went to the SAME SCHOOL!

Nick stares into his coffee cup, a smile on his face.

What I really think is, you’re going tell me some bullshit story you thought of after we relived the time I fell off my chair laughing in geometry class when you told me that stupid  ‘two dogs fucking’ joke.

Nick and Jessica both chuckle.  Jessica looks at Nick.

Why don’t you share with me some of the high points you learned in this class Nick like,  maybe you learned the finer points of putting a freeking condom on or, the chemical composition of latex vs sheepskin?

In case you’re wondering Jessica, this was a real class that was held over next to the field house.  The class had mostly jocks in it.  I guess it was a pretty well kept secret so that only jocks could take it for an easy A.

That makes sense.  They could major in Fly Tying with a minor in Sex Ed. right Nick?

Pause … Nick in repose.

Nick, I don’t believe a word you’re going to tell me but … you might make me laugh so what the hell.  Let me have it.  

Wull, like I said, those jock classes were a well kept secret.  I took another class over there with all jocks called ‘Principles of Safety’.  Both classes were easy A’s for those guys.  Wull … for me too!

Principles of Safety!  Oh my God!  They should have combined the two classes into one Nick.  A lot of girls were getting knocked up back when girls got married when they got pregnant.  I pity those girls who had to marry those asshole jocks just because they didn’t know the finer points of how to put a condom on … I think they could have used a couple of those principles of safety don’t you?

Good God Jessica.  You’re ridiculous.  (Nick has a half smile on his face.)

Suddenly Nick’s eyes light up.

So, are you telling me you know a lot about about the sex life of jocks and condoms and that sort of thing?  Are you telling me you’ve had a lot of experiences with ….

You know me better than that!  NOT EXPERIENCES WITH NICK you dork ass!  It’s what I HEARD!  You forget, I’ve had a lot of female roomates who constantly astounded me with their stories about men.

Pause …

Like, did you know that men completely lose their sense of time when they have sex? They think that 3 or 4 minutes is like, a half hour.  And they think that this, (Jessica holds up her thumb and forefinger about 3 inches apart) is six inches! And they say men are better at math?

That’s not math Jessica it’s geometry.

Shut up!

That’s a pretty funny statement especially when  you’re always saying, ”Not that size matters.”

Jessica glares at Nick, her lips compressed in mock defiance.

Jessica!  Jeeze, think of all the first hand knowledge you could have brought into that class.  It’s too bad you didn’t know about it.

I was just thinking of some of the teaching aids that prof probably used.  Way too strange to even think about.  There’s this one vision I have,  it’s a large display comparing a sheep’s vag …..

It was nothing like that Jessica! It was more serious in nature than that ….

Serious in nature!  Ha ha HA .. Oh my fricking Herbie Hancock Nick!  I can just imagine a roomful of dumb ass jocks learning about condoms and sheep and space and time.

Nick looks at Jessica with a serious look on his face.

So,  now you’re telling me college level sex-ed is serious business!  Highly intellectual right?

Pause.  Nick looks down.

Or maybe you’re confused.  Maybe the learning experiences you had actually took place at your apartment that one semester you got lucky a couple of times.

Pause …

For crying out loud Nick!  Going to school for 4 years was a fucking sex ed workshop in itself wasn’t it?  Mhmmm, that’s a special way of putting it.

(Jessica’s forehead is furrowed.  she appers to be deep in thought).

Jessica turns her head to the right.  She mutters under her breath,  ”Christ almighty … the only people qualified to teach sex ed are women.  Most men don’t know shit about sex even after they find out they don’t know shit!”  Jessica shakes her head.   She moves her elbow further to her left so she can get a better view of Nick’s  face.  

Nick looks into his coffee cup.  If you look closely at the subtle expression on his face you can see he is enjoying everything Jessica says.

Look closer and it’s obvious that Nick is trying hard to suppress his laughter.

Jessica places her right elbow on the breakfast bar.  The back of her head rests on the palm of her hand so she can see Nick’s face better.

Nick!  Look a me!  You know you’re full of shit don’t you?

Does it matter Jessica? (Nick bites his lower lip to conceal his amusement.)

Jessica can tell that soon they will both start laughing.

Nick and Jessica call fits of laughter ‘laugh orgasms’.  At this point, Jessica realizes she is in the throes of experiencing a laugh orgasm.

Nick tells Jessica he seduces her into laugh orgasms.  ‘It’s the foreplay of my words that control you completely, Jessica.”  He calls her a ‘nympho-laugh-a-maniac’  which is funny to them no matter how many times he says it.

“I can always tell when you’re gonna lose control Jess.  You look like you’re going to pee your pants.  Then your face gets really red and you have this pleading look.  When you can’t talk anymore I see tears forming along the bottom of your eye lids.  That’s when know I’ve gotten into (what Nick calls) your laugh crack.”

Nick and Jessica usually cackle about the term ‘nympho-laugh-o-maniac”.   Nick shortened the term.  He calls her a ”nympho”.  Jessica usually says,

‘’ I don’t care!  I don’t give a shit if I’m a laugh nympho Nick!  Give it to me baby!  I can’t get enough! ”  

Jessica does an imitation of James Brown, “I’m proud, I’m white and i’m a nympho!  I’m white and I’m a nympho.”   

Jessica continues her diatribe.  Nick listens patiently, a smirk on his face.

 Jessica’s face is getting  red.  Her voice is starting to come from her throat but with a hysterical tone.

I know a couple of girls who had enough life experiences that they would have had their masters degree in sex-ed by the time they graduated in four years.  Don’t they call that klepping?  You know, when you get credit for a class when you’ve have enough life experience in that area?

I don’t ….

Jessica looks pensive.

Actually, these girls could have had their fucking Phd’s in Sex Ed. within 4 years.  Hey!  That’s a great name for a degree in that area, don’t you think? 

What?  Dr. of Sex Education?

No Nick, you dork ass!  A Fucking Phd!

Nick and Jessica dissolve into laughter.  Nick’s elbows rest on the breakfast bar. His head rests against the fingers and thumb of his hands on either side of his face.  His eyes are squinted shut.

Jessica’s head is thrown all the way back against the top of her spine.  Her eyes are closed while her mouth is open with laughter.  (Nick says the true measure of any orgasm,  physical or from laughter,  is when your head is thrown back and your mouth is open)

After 30 seconds or so,  Nick and Jessica embrace and sway side to side while laughing.

When their laughter subsides  they pull back and look at each other.  Jessica’s cheeks are tear stained.

“Gosh Nick.  That was really good.  That was the best I’ve had in a long time. ….. Uumm …  Let’s do it again.’’

Nick and Jessica break down while continuing to laugh.

Reflections

One day, two and a half weeks after the swelling in my knee had lessened I found myself looking through the six foot wide slider opening to our pool area /at the hundred degree world outside/wondering what to do with my time. 

 I remembered a phrase I’d heard long ago/on the hottest days of summer/when I worked outdoors for the railroad. 

“Looks hotter than a two peckered billy goat out their today, doesn’t it kid?”  

But, it didn’t stop us from working.

 …..

So I took the plunge into the hot zone/deciding to redirect two water jets along the side walls of the pool/ (a foot and a half below the surface of the water) to a sharper downward angle to better push algae on the bottom toward the drainage pipe/at the far bottom end of the pool.  

What could be easier work/for a man two and a half weeks after total knee replacement surgery?

After returning from the tool box with a short, regular head screwdriver I knelt on one knee, my bad knee thrust straight back.  

Leaning over the edge of the pool/I guided the screwdriver into the eye of the nozzle/wedged it against the insides wall/and gently turned.  

When the jet’s ‘eye’ cracked loose/I cranked it downward to the left.

When the surface turbulence above the jet disappeared/a shadow world of spinning phalanxes, galaxies/black holes appeared from nothingness/their forms wandering aimlessly/hastening destruction or reforming forms torn apart/circles growing tails inside revolving shadows/subtle shadings of waves WITHIN the water clearly seen/patterns changing always changing/light absorbed from the sun cast down/onto the bottom of the pool/a photographic negative revealing details; moving shadows clear as night/the interplay of sunlit water, air, blue sky earth and liquid space had emerged.

Wow!  An invisible world becoming visible for me to see/all because I moved a water jet!

 How wonderful the world can be! 

Then I wondered.  Am I taking too much percoset?  

It didn’t matter.  One more jet to adjust.  We’ll see how it goes!

 continued … 

Until the Next Time: The Kathy and Derek Chronological … The End

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I turned and walked toward the open door of the Mustang while re-running a little video inside my brain of what happened during the last 10 or 15 minutes.

I saw Scooter Guy dazed and confused,  tangled up in the wreckage of his scooter wondering how in the world he went from jamming a yard sale sign into the ground to looking at the sky with a human face staring down at him.  

But most of the scenes in my video were of Kathy and Derek.

There’s Kathy half way out of the car window chiding me about the spelling of ‘Yeard’, making me aware of the penis, knowing that I’d take the bait, wondering what crazy shit would ensue. Her teeth her smile her eyes reflecting sunlight; the light of good humor, her body a metronome inside of some internal clock, bouncing up and down in time with the music that is always there but not always felt or heard or seen. Music that the world brings to us when somehow,  the rigors of every day life fall away and true life is exposed.

I saw Derek coming at me like a soft human tank growing larger his lips stretched back his white teeth gleaming in the sun, ”getting’ the joke,  happy to be part of it, unafraid to show his affection. The last thing I remember, sight of him laughing, double visions of his face bouncing to the music of HIS internal laugh clock.

I pulled the car door shut, put the Mustang into first gear, looked both ways and slowly let out on the clutch.  A split second before moving through the intersection  I glanced into the rear view mirror.

Kathy’s head was still outside of her window. She still had that shit eating grin on her face her head bobbing up and down and up and down and up and down just like the bobble headed hula girl that my grandparents displayed on the open shelving unit that separated their tiny little living room from their tiny little kitchen.

The End …..

Kathy and Derek: The Possibility of Road Rage

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Suddenly I realized I was alone standing in the middle of the left lane, the Mustang running with the door open.

I knew that the drivers behind Kathy and Derek were oblivious of the circumstances anxious to move past the Stop sign to continue along their well worn paths.  

Like …  even if they had seen Scooter Man trapped under his scooter they couldn’t have known about the penis on the yard sign which wouldn’t have made any difference, since the real reason traffic was being held up was, I was totally debilitated by the ridiculous absurdity of a penis on a yard sign, while Kathy and Derek were overwhelmed with laughter at the sight of me acting like an ass totally convinced that there was a penis on a yard sale sign. We were indulging ourselves with laughter. We knew that any one of us could have been playing the role I was currently playing.  

As the line of incoming traffic grew I felt their resentment  heating up.  I figured I’d have to either get the hell out of there or face the consequences of collective road rage.

I glanced at Kathy and Derek two cars behind the Mustang.

Their body language spoke volumes.

Continued … The Exciting Conclusion (once again) of The Kathy and Derek Chronicle

The Kathy and Derek Chronicle: “There’s A Penis On That Sign Can’t You See It?”

Once again, I turned to look at the yard sign.  But, I couldn’t take my eyes off of Scooter Guy who was attempting to mount and drive the scooter away from where he had fallen. 

 One wheel of the scooter rested on the black top of the street where I waited at the Stop sign.  The other was on the shoulder of the busy cross street I had been waiting to cross over.  

If things continued the way they were going, Scooter Guy would soon be driving on the shoulder of the busy street against traffic!

(Across the street, a wide gray concrete bike path watched Scooter Guy with cold indifference all the while thinking, ‘’Jeeze, what a dumb ass.”)

When I finally DID look at the yard sign all thoughts of Scooter Guy disappeared. 

The penis inserted between the A and D seemed to have grown much larger and more prominent than before!  I asked myself,  why in God’s name would ANYBODY insert a penis between the R and D of a  yard sale sign in the first place?

I turned my head to look back at Derek.  I peered into his eyes.  Pointing at the sign I hollered, “There’s a penis on that sign!  Can’t you see it!”

Not much had changed since Derek had given me the big bear hug.  His eyes were still squinting.  His lips were still stretched into a wide grin with his teeth  showing.  In addition now, his head and shoulders were bouncing up and down and up and down from laughing, which gave his face a kind of blurred image.

Suddenly he turned away.   An instant later all I saw was the back of his flannel shirt receding, getting smaller as he rushed toward the passenger side of his car.

continued …

 

The Kathy and Derek Chronicle III: The Penis In ‘Yard Sale’ Seems To Be Getting Larger!

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When I turned to remark about the penis in ‘’yeard’’ sale, the male half of my two friends Derek, a giant of a man, six feet four at least, his bald head shining in the afternoon sun, his front teeth showing from behind lips stretched back into a wide grin, loomed  larger and larger within my field of vision until only the buttons on his plaid shirt were visible.
I closed my eyes and felt a hard embrace. Since I hadn’t seen Derek in a while I returned the favor while pounding the angel bone on the right side of his back, with my open hand.
When I pulled back from his hug and looked at his smiling face,  his eyes wide and round and blue, his mouth still stretched side to side, his teeth still showing he said,  ‘’Can you believe how that guy spelled yard?”
 When I turned around Scooter Guy he was attempting to remount his scooter having tipped it right side up by himself …

Next:

The penis inserted between the A and D seemed to have grown larger and much more prominent than before.  I asked myself,  why in God’s name would ..

The Kathy and Derek Chronicle: Part II

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While Scooter Guy … tanned and shirtless wearing Bermuda shorts and sandals, around 75 years old … struggled to escape from beneath his scooter I took a moment to weigh my options; would Scooter Guy’s male ego assert itself with resentment if I attempted to help him get up?

When I stared down into Scooter Guy’s glazed eyes I saw no trace of male ego so I said, ’’Jeeze, are you ok?Do you need some help getting up?”

While watching Scooter Guy squirm beneath the weight of his scooter, I heard a female voice shout my name.

I turned and there sat Kathy her whole head and shoulders extended out of the drivers side window of her car, her face beaming with joy, enjoying the experience of witnessing something totally apart from the circumstances of everyday life.

Not surprisingly, instead of asking about Scooter Guy’s condition (does he look hurt, do you need help lifting the scooter?) she said, “Can you believe how that guy spelled yard sale?”

I looked over my shoulder at the sign where “yard’’ was spelled ‘’yeard’’ but my first thought was that the R on ‘yeard’ looked like a penis standing tall along side the A and D.

I looked down at Scooter Guy who was struggling. The misspelling of the word also explained why Scooter Guy’s eyes appeared to be glazed.

Since, the funniest subject in the world is sex and … well, penises are right up there too .. AND since Derek and Kathy had appeared … I started getting that giddy feeling, which tells me some crazy shit is about to happen. Wull … I wasn’t disappointed.

continued …

The Kathy and Derek Chronicle Part I: It Was So Much Fun the First Time, Why Not?

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I hadn’t seen Kathy and Derek for a long time.

I like them because they are the kind of people who like me,  think ”stupid is funny.”

In other words, they don’t mind letting … or even making … everyday experiences become ridiculous.  Life can be pretty entertaining when stupid stuff happens all the time.

This story is a perfect example of how a seemingly innocuous experience can evolve into something that is so ridiculous that it becomes hilariously funny.

Here’s what happened.

I was sitting in my car at a stop sign that day, the second car in line, when I realized a commotion was taking place on the corner to my left, between two people; the driver of the car in front of me and another man I’ll call Scooter Guy, who sat on one of those three wheeled scooters that elderly people drive all over town.

At first I thought the driver was a friend of Scooter Guy since it appeared that he was helping Scooter Guy put a flappy little sign into the ground advertising a giant yard sale.

I thought they might have been having one of those joint yard sales, until the driver turned, walked away from Scooter Guy shaking his head, got into his car and drove away.

I sensed cars backing up behind me so I moved the Mustang closer to the stop sign but I couldn’t take my eyes off of Scooter Guy who, sitting on the scooter, was attempting to pound the stick attached to the sign into the ground with his left arm when, the combination of his weight shifting to the left and the back wheel dropping off the black top into a 12 inch rut, caused the scooter to flip onto its side pinning half of Scooter Guy’s body beneath it.

More …

Be Forworned! Urine Mixed With Chlorine Is An Explosive Mixture! (did I spell that right?)

Hello! Hi!

It’s me!

I’m urinating in the pool right now.  They say it keeps you from getting athlete’s feet.  BUT, used with chlorine it can be explosive!

So, I gotta be really careful!

I don’t know the difference yet but I’m studying really hard.  Ummmmmm …

Wull … back during football the coach would draw a big L and R on the pulling guard’s butts (left side, right side) in front of me, so I’d know whether to go to the left or to the right.

But I never really caught on.

And I STILL don’t know how to convert Farenheit to Celsius!!

Imagine that!!

Please leave a message …….

 

 

Going Mad

I never would have ever thought that some day I’d go mad!

I mean, who does?

I know a few “Madders.”  It caught them off guard too!

Maybe going mad is just another road sign along the way.  In which case;  GREAT!  I’m so glad I’m going mad!

(Not really … )

Going mad isn’t exactly funny.  In fact, going mad isn’t funny at all!

Unless you’re some sick bastard who enjoys watching someone else’s pain … in the form of sheer madness.

(Ha Ha … Jason’s wife just took the kids and moved to Rio de Janiero!  I bet he’s totally fucked up!  Ha Ha Ha … .)

So you see, I don’t think there’s anything good about going mad!

There’s nothing to learn from the experience except what it feels like to slowly slowly cyclonic darker, leaned closer to,  mind and body’s uneasy truce, surrender …..

Horrified silence …

I’m GOING MAD !

The Creature From the Black Canal

They warned me about the alligator floating around the canal in back of the house. I scoffed at their advice.

I needed to whack the weeds on the bank leading down to the canal. I waited until the sun dropped below the tree line to start the job. Who wants to whack weeds in ninety nine degree heat?

 

At the shoreline I turned away from the water to get the weeds under the banana tree when I felt a tug on my leg then, sharp pain!

I looked down. My leg was between its teeth! The last thing I remember was water being forced into my nostrils and a sense of hopelessness.

I woke up sputtering!! I thought I was drowning! Then I realized I had poured an entire bottle of Fuji water onto my face most of it having drained into my nose.

While coughing violently, I happened to look down at the canal where I saw two giant marbles a little smaller than tennis balls floating on the surface.

When a paddle shaped, warty snout with two puncture holes at the end and what appeared to be thousands of teeth (although there could have been more) began to rise out of the water, I knew I had come face to face with a big alligator! A big fugator!

Still coughing violently I scanned the area for a limb to throw at the big fucker when the hammock I’d been sleeping on flipped me!

The canvas had wrapped itself around me. I was trapped like an ear of corn!!

I swayed like a pendulum for around 30 seconds before coming to rest my head 12 inches or so above ground.  I stared down at the Gator, my world turned completely upside down, my arms clasped along both sides of my body feeling totally helpless.

What made matters worse was, the Fuji bottle had lodged itself below my waist at a very bad place which was causing me a lot of pain!

The gator took two steps onto land its beakey snout with all those teeth leading the way.

The reticular area of my brain was thoroughly confused. Since fight or flight was not an option I struggled.

“Would you like some cheeze and crackers?” she said.

Her appearence or the sound of her voice startled the gator. Quick as a slippery bean pole on the Fourth of July the only things left to see were white water froth, little whirl pools and eddies and the yaw of its rounded beak and those teeth (!)slinking down below the inky surface of that canal.

She didn’t look down quickly enough to see its teeth before they disappeared. She thought the movement of the water was caused by turtles. She warned me again about the gator.

A half hour later, finally free from the clutches of the hammock I ate two cracker and cheezes and threw up.

Mack, I’ll Take the Knife

Dr.! Dr.!  Make no bones about it!  I know the tune you’re singing!

The knife is a whole lot better than a lifetime of toil, carrying my body from place to place! It’s more like a full time job! What fun is that?? It’s time well wasted if you ask me!

Weren’t we humans given that special wisdom .. “To move about is the be FREE!”

If this is all about moving through space and time with another crossroad before me, a chance to get it right this time then, I’ll take the plunge so I can resume my journey!

So, give me the knife will ‘ya, Mack?

But jeeze, on my birthday!?

Wull … who knows … ?

 

 

 

 

 

LifeOntheBizarroPlanet

Read this piece as if it is taking place in a parallel universe where all emotions are opposite ours. That is, laughing is crying and crying is laughing so, when you’re feeling really great and you feel like laughing in this universe you would be weeping.

Here goes …

I hadn’t had a drop of water for at least 15 minutes. My skin crinkled and dry at the back of my neck and elbows sounded like sandpaper.

A good half hour away Swarthmore our doorkeeper began pulling on the chains attached to the smaller 25 foot door.

“Thanks ‘Swarthy,” I said jumping off the new bike, one eye on the bike sailing down the road toward the ice rink, the other on Swarthy’s pencil thin arms, biceps the size of small mangos, amazed at the strength he was able to muster.

All twenty dogs mobbed me as the massive door crashed shut. I don’t mind their affection. The ripped, blood stained pants I wear like a ‘red badge of courage’ always seems to bring out the best in people.

All but that asshole dog with the tattooed tongue. Mom said it was born that way. I’ve been wanting to farm that fucking dog out to Clyde the neighbnor next door who constantly laughs! Jeeze maybe the dog could lower his spirits! I’m thinking he could play with the old cur until it lolls out its tongue. When he’d see the festering tongue with the words ” Life’s a bitch,” tattood might bring him back down to earth where he belongs here in the doldrums with every other dullard who lives on the lousy fricking planet”

Just as I finished drinking 2 or 3 gallons of water mom came down the steps laughing her ass off.”What’s the matter mom. Why are you in such a bad mood?”

“Some son of a bitch just gave your father $150,005 and a ’55 Olds that runs perfect!”

“Jeeze, I’m sorry mom. I know you had your heart set on that Peterbuilt semi with the railroad car attached.”

Laughing, she said, “Without the engine no less!”.

” Awww mom,” I said, “We’ll get by.”

Still laughing she said, “so how are 15 of us supposed to fit in an Oldsomobie on our imaginary vacation trips? We’ll be forced to drive the freaking thing.”

She was rolling on the ground having a laughing fit. I felt bad for her but knew if I hung around she’d start being really nice to me. I hate that even though later she snarls and tells me she’s sorry.

I hightailed it out of there through the undergrounbd passage. I didn’t even want to see Swarthmore even though he scares the shit out of me.

Later, I was wandering down that steep hill in front of the house; broken bones and carbeurator housings all over the place. Things were starting to look up when a huge boulder bounced within inches of the right side of my body. “Woah,” I thoughht that was pretty cool.

I turned around and looked up. (Ah haa.. THAT’S WHY I THOUGHT THINGS WERE LOOKING UP!)

There was Ma standing at the edge of the cliff tears of joy, wailing at the top of her lungs, her head moving side to side. She had used that big crow bar to loosen the boulder. She had had a complete mood change!

“That was a good one mom! You need to work on your delivery though.”

For some strange reason I think I had a smile on my face. Uh oh! She’s gonna think I’m making fun of her.

Her face grew still. When she laughed I knew I was screwed.

“You little bastard! Wait ’till your father gets home.”

I couldn’t help it I said, “You mean you’re not my real mom?”

She laughed even louder, bent down, stood up and began pelting me with some pretty good sized rocks. “Don’t try to change the subject you little fucker!” she said.

As she stormed away she thought, “Maybe he IS my bastard child. I have no memory of the intense humor I should have from when he was born. And he smiles and thinks being nice goes along with a smile?? Maybe he’s one of those Trumpoids?”

This was the only excuse she could think of.

I knew what she was thinking. I thought, “Maybe I WAS born on one of those Galapagos Islands: the land that time forgot! I’ve heard some mighty strange things come out of there.

Maybe that explains why everyone gets so rabid with laughter when I say that sometimes I feel like a motherless child.”,

BumpingUpAgainsttheMiddleOftheNight

continued … Then, there’s the couple next door/always watching/passing judgement/critical of every move I make/I hear them at times. “Why Henry! Did you see what he just did?” Or “Martha! Can you believe your eyes!?”

Blah blah blah …

I wish I could flip them the bird/and tell them to fuck off!!/wull ..I have, but they don’t.

The neighbor’s window!/it follows me around wherever I go/the faces behind ever changing.

(Sometimes I think my dad pays them/to keep an eye on me.)

Him?!

Oh yeah/he visits occasionally/with that shit eating grin//looking like he just got away with something/he shouldn’t have been doing.

Or, the anger I saw/looking up at him from the kitchen floor/the night he cold cocked me/for coming home too late.

Or, maybe my mind is a big jig saw puzzle of/interesting or/not so interesting pieces/that follow me around/as I move about the world.

I’m never sure which piece will/bump up against which other piece/and what the resultant action/will be.

Or, maybe I’m like a chorus/all the voices singing music/people’s faces/words I’ve said/part of a song/stories of love that was and wasn’t/the blues/or ecstatic drum and bass music/bringing movement to my feet and hands!

The beat …!! THE BEAT!!

A thing of majesty that can/take me to the top of the mountain/where I can see all there is to see!

At least, that’s what it’s like for me … !

(Wull .. while we’re at it, why not try Kaskade, Underworld, Sasha, The Crystal Method, The Propellerheads!)

Next: the music inside my brain/and more …

It’saverynoisyplaceinhere

I Vaped ..

.. into another world/the same in every detail but/slower, more visual, laid back, funny, “verbally verbal” i.e./I talk to myself while carrying the stone (you figure it out) when I’m alone

Myself and I .. ? We’re good ‘buds’/we give each other good advice.
Sometimes.

There’s a whole host of other characters up here/or should I say ‘in’ here.

This is a very noisey place!!

There’s endless talk, obsessive thinking/different people come and go/my dad and just about every person I’ve ever been in contact with my whole life has stopped by at one time or another.

Continued: The couple next door …

The Rotting Flesh of Inevitability

That night before falling asleep I made a deal with myself. Either fix the damn washing machine or die. Wull, death can be a powerful incentive!

Next morning another beautiful day dawned clear and blue and cold, a degree or so above freezing. Icicles dripping were always a sign of good luck for me. I looked forward to the feelings of accomplishment I’d have when the washer was fixed and running.

When I opened the lid the smell of rotted flesh seemed to coat my face. The lid dropped from my hand with a bang.  I snapped my head back so violently I thought I may have aggravated an old football injury.

Feeling a stinging blow to my upper lip I realized that, in a desperate attempt to escape the stench I had stabbed myself with my thumb and index finger while attempting to pinch my nostrils shut.

Boy did that smart! But it didn’t hurt half as much as the stench wafting from the bowells that washing machine.

With nostrils pinched tightly I held my breath, turned my head to the side, slowly lifted the lid and and peered inside.

When my eyes adjusted, the body of a dead mouse lying on its side beneath six inches of water emerged from the murky depths.

“What the … ?”

I thought, could this mouse, too quick for me to see when I closed the lid last fall, have slipped and fallen doing some daredevil trick only an adolescent mouse would attempt!?

I skoffed. In a brief moment of intelligence I thought maybe this is how humans die too? (Not by falling into a washing machine you stoop!)

I needed time to figure out how to get the stinking water and the rotted body out of there. I decided to sleep on it.

Next: How Wuthering Heights Got Into the Pest Control Business

MA! Do You Ever Think I’ll Learn How To Surf?: Part II of The Mouse Who Thought He Could Fly

Naturally I had more time on my hands after my decision to stay away from Bill and his mud bogging. I spent a lot of time channel surfing U Tube.

One day I saw a video on washing machine repair. Jeeze, some of the repairs looked easy. Figuring this was a sign from God I decided what the Hell – oh … ! Sorry… ! HECK, I can fix the washer at the cottage!

Next morning I jumped in the car and headed north on I-75.

Pulling away I noticed my wife waving goodbye with both hands over her head. It sounded like she yelled, “Have fun YOU and don’t get HIT!”

I love it when she shows her oncern but after all I’m not a DUMB SHIT!

I drove 24 hours straight from Florida to northern Michigan where there was still a touch of winter in the air and three feet of snow on the ground. The weather was fair. Gray skies with temps in the mid 20s. Not bad for up there. I knew it would soon be melted.

Figuring I’d get some work done before repairing the washing machine I skuffed around in the snow looking for fallen limbs and branches but after a day and a half with only a small pile for all my effort I said, screw this! I’ll finish the job in Spring when I can at least see the ground!

Next, I figured I could finish one Spring job I hate! Washing the windows!

Unfortunately, even with the hair blower I couldn’t keep the Windex from freezing. Soon two inches of blue ice had formed along the window sill. I decided against using an ice pick to chip it away. The memory of stabbing a line of freon gas while defrosting the freezer was still fresh in my mind.

Boy does that freon smell! I KNOW my wife was happy to get a new refrigerator even though she threw the ice pick at me! She’s such a kidder!

Continued … Ewww, that smell!

How A Year At Barbizon Changed My Life Forever: Part II of The Mouse Who Thought He Could Fly

The continuing story is in my brain and on paper but too sleepy to write after being up all night with restless leg syndrome. Kept dreaming I was dreaming about having restless leg syndrome and not being able to sleep in the dream. It was weird. When I woke from the dream I had restless leg syndrome in the “real” world as well. I didn’t know what was real or just an allusion.

Sometimes I just don’t know the difference between shit and shinola,* but I’m getting a haircut tomorrow so maybe I’ll get my shoes shined. I’m wondering if they polish Crocs? If they don’t wull … I guess I’m up shit creek without a paddle.

So you’ll just have to wait for the next chapter about that dumb ass character and the mouse. That’s all i’m saying. Don’t want to spoil the ending. It’s a wing dinger. A real fizzy pop laugh riot. Even a little existentialistic if you know what i mean. Even I can’t wait to read it! You’ll laugh your guts out. Now THAT’s funny. Wait and see.

So, good night. Jeeze. My legs feel funny. I better get going. The “sand man” is calling. Hope I don’t have nightmares about Donald Trump. I’ll take restless leg syndrome over that asshole any day.

Know what I mean? KS

* Are some people NOT aware of two things; first, that “shinola” is shoe shine paste in a can and second, back in the day you could get a shoe shine at most, if not many or even SOME barbershops? If you’re one the “unknowing” then … wull, now you know!😴

Hogtied In Cincinatti (part 1 of The Mouse Who Thought He Gave Could Fly)

Shortly before we closed the cottage for the winter the washing machine ‘gave up the ghost’.

There wasn’t enough time to call the local repair guy so I moved it to the back deck, threw a blue tarp over it, tossed a vintage aluminum chaise lounge on top of the tarp and cinched everything together with a bungee cord stretched around the middle making it look like a really fat man wearing a blue London Fog raincoat and very cheap belt.

We hopped into the car hurried south on I-75 to Detroit Metro Airport where we caught Spirit Airlines flight 3326710 back down to Florida the land of the midday sun. .

Not five miles from the cottage, after a heated discussion about how we were going to squeeze an extra $75 from our IRA account for this year’s tax bill, all thoughts about the washing machine dropped off of the radar.

(Wull, all things being relative don’t you think that a tax burden looming up on the horizon is a lot more threatening than the thoughs of running out of clean underwear in the Spring?)

Time moves on.

It wasn’t until Christmas that I remembered the washing machine after my friend Bill’s wife bought him a washing machine for Christmas.

“OH YEAH! THE WASHING MACHING!” I shouted out loud. Everyone had a perplexed look on their face. My friend Bill leaned over and whispered (a little too close to my ear for comfort), “Are you gonna get one too?”

I reared back and looked at his face. I didn’t feel comfortable with what I saw

I began avoiding Bill after that telling him I was too tired to go watch him mud bog. I hated that yellow Pinto he drove with those ridiculously huge tires anyway.

Continued …

*Newly improved profile available.

Parental Guidance Suggested

Will the IRS keep the money and apply the $140 to the balance owed?

No? Shit! I was gonna go out for a Bloomin’Onion!

Well, good! I don’t like Bloomin’Onions anyway!

And wull, come to think of it, f–k them and f–k the ship they came as passengers on!

I can do without the so called “necessities” of life!

It doesn’t matter! In my own mind I’m a freeking hero anyway for helping people realize how NORMAL they are! You know .. Everything is the Theory of Relativity anyway.

That’s why we don’t stand a chance! Space is so BIG. The problem is; you don’t know whether this is a good thing or a bad thing?!

I’m neutral in that regard. There aren’t that many of us left. I was scratching my head thinking, “the ranks are thinning.’ Or maybe I got lost in thought while scratching my head! I guess we’ll never know.

Maybe if I …… Naahhh .. that’ll never work …hmmmm ..

So. What are you? Are you satisfied with all this shit? (I heard they caught Donald Trump with his pants down the other day! Now THAT’S some shit!)

A very costly item up for bid!

Luckily I don’t have a dime to my name! But I don’t want any of his shit anyway!

But whaddya ganja … Whoa !!… Sorry … ! GONNA do?

That’s life at its cruelest fork!

Would that be in the road? Or, does it have something to do with that Bloomin’ Onion? I guess it’s just another one of those things we’ll never know!

But, ain’t it the truth!!!!! 😥😡😕😮😯😂😁 KS

The Case of the Missing Furniture

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Chapter I

Thursday morning I think I awoke from what I thought was a dream/doors banging shut echoed throughout the house/the four walls devoid of shadows looked strange and naked; the outlets seemed bored without their plugs.

I knocked on every door and looked inside. Nothing!

Was it a dream?  

Chapter 2

I drank my coffee on the porch the yellow sun on my feet my face in shadow, before I even realized every stick of furniture had disappeared.

I called the police!

Chapter 3

“Something has to be missing for two days before it’s missing,” they said.

“But what if its all on a big semi headed for North Carolina or down by the Swale River holding the asses of some homeless people drinking their muscatel, red stains all over on the arms?’

They left in a huff. “Homeless people are out of our jurisdiction!”

Chapter 4

I remembered seeing the E.M.T. people. Hmmm …  Maybe they were in disguise?

Shit!  Then I remembered!  The E.M.T.’s had visited my house at least ten days prior.

 They told me I was having an anxiety attack. But I disguised my feelings.  I wasn’t going to let them know the chair was a giant hand thrusting up to pull me into some abscess below the foundation of the house. What a ridiculous thought!  I live on a cement slab!!

“But I couldn’t get the thought out of my head.”

Chapter 5

A while later I said good bye despite her offer to tell me everything that happened.

“I’m perfectly happy wondering what happened. I don’t need any answers.”

Chapter 6

I stuck out my thumb. Houses and bison sped by.

Chapter 7

Finally, I arrived!  The door opened.  I stepped inside.

The driver a 30’s something red haired police officer wearing a green uniform her hair pulled back said her name was Devereaux.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked.

She smiled, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Well yes but … does this have anything to do with
my missing furniture ….. ?”

Nick and Jessica Talk Sex

… I had to play the role of a bad ass for years after that. It was pretty hard to it pull off sometimes  … especially when I was confronted by a REAL bad ass …

Hey Nick!  We’re going back to the ”Mall Planet”  aren’t we?

Yup …..  soooo, ok., ……………… where were we? ………

End of Part V, continued …

Part VI –

Nick and Jessica Laughed About Their Favorite Subject …

….. you know …  ….. nothing really that significant ever happened to me before you came along Nick … (jessica is smiling) …

Bullshit, jessica.  I lived four blocks over.  I knew about you a lot sooner than we knew about each other.

And you’ve told me just about every memory you’ve had since the beginning of time. (smiles).  Like, i know about the time you tried to set Lana Cole’s house on fire because she teased you about peeing the bed.

And you’ve given me a clear look into the past by telling me what it was like when Woody Woodhouse showed you his  d__k when you were four y ears old.

so, what are best friends for when you’re four years old other than getting a first time glimpse at a c_ck or a pu_sy?  You should have seen the look on his face when he looked down at mine.  

Pretty surprised huh?

Yeah, I don’t think that he thought there’d be that much difference between us.

… i always thought his name was so appropriate for that occasion, don’t you, jess?

I thought you hated that term Nick.  You say that every time the subject of this story comes up.

But we get to make these snarky remarks … like, I get to call you a dumb shit ..and it’s funny so i say it to poke you because you give me those fucking physical pokes.

Jessica suddenly lurches at Nick’s rib cage with her finger extended … you want a little poke huh ..   she start  poking Nick in the side.

With Nick bent over laughing Jessica stops, stands up, smiles, thinks….  hmmmm …

“Listen Nick, this is serious business. I was thinking,, i’m sure woody has the sight of my … well, you know … p_ _sy — etched in his mind.  It’s probably the template he has used for every girl’s  p_ _sy  he ever saw from that point forward throughout his whole life which …. this is not a bad thing is it nick?   

I wonder if Woody Woodhouse even saw that many p_ssys in his whole life, Jessica?  If i were a betting man I’d say he hasn’t even looked at his wife’s pu__y in a looong time, if at all.

After seeing mine, probably not Nick.  He probably just glanced at his wife’s  a couple of times in the beginning to see how it stacked up against mine … then went ahead and took the plunge. .. 

… the plunge?

Yeah … It must have looked ok compared to mine so he asked her to marry him!

You’ve got some mighty high standards for marriage don’t you  Jessica. ”Hmmmm … Her p_ _sy looks almost as  good as Jessica’s did when we were 4  years old so, I think I’ll ask her to marry me.”

Nick and Jessica dissolve into laughter …

continued …

Nick and Jessica Have Another Ridiculous Conversation

continued …. And my dildo sister, right?

images-2

That’s my house at the end of the street!

right … you’re telling Di the story and  you have to rub the tears out of your eyes because that’s what you always do when you lose control of your laughing.  Then, you realize your mood has changed. You feel really good. You feel chatty.

 Oh yeah. that’s me, Nick.  I’ve finally learned how to be outgoing and I’m not letting my sister get a word in edgewise which … I never let her do anyway … and it’s all because I dropped my shoe box at the mall when I was on another planet?

…. then, half way through the next day, you remember what happened and you chuckle and shake your head.

You’re not going to tell me I’m going to do this for the rest of my life are you Nick.  Because if you are then …… (Jessica is smiling …)

Noooo, nooo, noo.  Jeesh… what a drag … like Ground Hog Day … well, not quite but anyway … a few months go by. You find yourself walking past Starbuck’s where it all happened.  You’ve  got two boxes of shoes in a Payless bag ….

Payless … ???!! Are you shitting me?  You’re making this thing into a fucking nightmare … he he  

… and you smile when you remember the time that funny shit happened.  You’re thinking, “That guy was really funny. I wonder what happened to him?  Maybe he’ll pass by.” But, he doesn’t

Aww Nick, why ‘dja have to do that?  We could have had a wonderful 24 hour relationship ..

 … So you get a cup of that sweet latte shit you like …

Speak for yourself Nick; bold Jamaican cappachino ? … bleaaah !

… and you sit there reliving those clear memories. It’s so great when that happens! You can remember the song they were playing at the time …

I think it was Elton John singing, Bennie and the Jets.

 … and you remember the barrista’s name because you joked with him about the incident.

I think it was Rod. I can’t remember his last name.  Was it Sperling or Durling or something like that? 

Yeah right.  You were in the zone that day … so, what the heck you even remember you had to buy an umbrella because it rained so hard that day.  And it’s all because something totally out of the ordinary happened in an otherwise boring day.

That fucking umbrella collapsed on me half way across the parking lot.  (Nick is smiling, holding back a little laughter.)

….. well you know  … funny shit like that happens all the time when I’m with you Nick. So … so what? It’s funny? Uh-kayy…. But, I gotta admit a lot of this makes sense. I can remember so many of the funny experiences we’ve had when we’re together.  And they’re usually pretty unusual situations.  Why do you think I hang out with you, Nick?  

Beats the shit out of me Jessica.  I thought maybe it was the cologne I wear.

But you don’t wear cologne jerko.  

Oh yeah, I forgot.  (they’re on he verge of laughter …)

I’ll tell you what it’s like Nick.  It’s like,  you have these memories inside your brain, right?  And they’re in there simmering like little fires … and then something unusual happens and like, WHOOSH they flare up and take you by surprise!  It’s like all of the sudden, charcoal starter gets squirted on them and they … BOOM … they appear!  What do you think?  Is that a good way to describe it? he, he he …

Very funny Jessica.  I think you’ve been reading too much Carlos Castenada …

 I guess it’s a little like remembering  my fight with that dick head Rob Steiner when something triggered the memory and boom!

What’s that got to do with anything?

I don’t know.  It just popped into my head … continued …