diSCr.eat|diSCr.ipt|diSCr.eem

September 14th, 2005

yeah, so i’m back in from the storm. i’d snort up the last pile and ran out while rose was off taking john to dialysis. something not quite right about my tending toward the sneakishness round them. anyway, I’d found an old can of those cute little mandarin oranges they’d left in a closet (a closet?) up here. cursory botulism exam checked out, though there was a little shiny, yellow grease spot on the top that I chalked up to a roach emmission and tried not to touch it too much, pea-sized and all, while I actually yes folded out the can opener from my trusty dusty swiss army. I’m going to check their web site (probably chock full of widgetry) to see if I can register as one of the elite group of people who have actually accomplished somethikng useful with a red handled something. oh man, i was sucking out the juice through the jagged little crack (take that alanismorrissey!) when I was not quite half way, and think I knicked my lip. opposite of where I got the stitches removed last week, but not enough to balance out my face. I need lead poisoning and a rim job…but I digress. good they were, but I needed more and a couple hours later i’m riding a bike through a hurricane. I gots no claims on nawlins fames. at the bi-lo (jesus!) I got a creme-filled glazed krispy kreme and paid for it up front so that I could scroll with it, lick it and shop. then an indian river orange juice (yay me!), an organic sippin’ yogurt (whee,whee!), and a thing they call a “kippered beef snack: smoke flavoring added.” salt is the third ingredient and at least five forms of sugar were sprinkled through. I had a joke all made up, prepared, and rehearsed in my head a coupla times for my cashier, should he or she comment or look awry or askew (even askant). it was gonna go like this: “Yeah, I’m really trying to buckle down and not eat so healthy like I was before. I mean, I’m telling you, it was getting out of hand! My liver was vitamin-pickled. I was getting intoxified in my blood from the baby carrots alone!…But, you know, it’s hard…” I never got the chance. the old man said he had “a phantom…or superman…something” then picked up the phone and announced about county-wide that there was a “15 on 9″ or that a “15 on 9″ was needed. one or the other. a lady about 15-20 feet away (maybe 9!) came out from over back there where the important people watch over the three ring binders and the wall of cigarette cartons, and she did that stick the key in, give it a quarter turn, then back, and out. what a trick! I’ve enough sex like that, that I feel qualified to suggest that everybody have their own damn key on a curly mini telephone cord from back when phones had cords (nice to see them recycling), and we could cut down on grandpa’s noise pollution. I did sit down on the concrete outside, wishing i had a swiss army with me–hell, even a solitary leatherman in a leatherpouch (assume the case must also be concatenated with the leather)–to get that vacuum pack kippered snack (nice ring, eh?) (like an old phone…ah…) open. then i ate! and I dreaded going back in it. and i watched that not many, even in cars, were going in it. then I noticed how the clouds were the exact color–that patchy grayish white–and shape as those little cyclone graphics they have on the weather channel. just like it. i swear to you. the clouds were low but looked like they went a mile up! and they moved fast. and they moved in a circular fashion and pattern. and that was counter-clockwise. just like the one on tv. and so i took it to mean i was supposed to notice something about myself. that i was a 35 year old (and still am), smokin’ a camel on the lonely dirt black gum-studded concrete in a hurricane on my fourth day of straight-up goal-oriented coke blowin’. maybe it’s time to grow up. well, of course it is, it has been, and people would like to do just that, but people don’t always do what they want to do, people are the tautology par excellance.

Entry Filed under: Lifin