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Sat 3 Feb, 2007 06:40 am
The first comment should be a continuation of this post. The next comment should be a continuation of that, and so on.
...Still influenced by this heterogeneous ecstasy, the sensational experience began. I have trouble pinpointing the words to describe such an ancient felicity. I have even further trouble attempting to accurately describe its interruption. In the immediate distance, I sighted a behemoth, circular, metallic disk. It was a wondrous terror. The sight hatched a feral excitedness about me and I leapt to my feet, adjusting my pants properly.
Scalding heat upon its touch, dripping a thick violet colored liquid. The thing had an image like steel, but a psychological sensation like mind-sandpaper. In the reflection, decorating the aqueous material dripping from it, I could see minute and infrequent reptilian movement. In fact, the entirety of the liquid itself was shifty and scrabbling along the red clay ground. Upon a more judicious inspection of the vessel, I discovered a miniscule cylinder jutting from its southernmost end. On occasion, the tube would puke the violet substance I described. The thing, by its very essence, was exhilarant. I spent a moment breathing in its hermetic quality before jogging home to inform someone of its presence.
I jogged into the house and yelled for my wife.
"Lurene!! Every time I go jogging your brother backs my Firebird out from under the carport and leaves it running in the frigging sun!"
"What?" Her voice came from somewhere back in the double-wide.
"It's like 100 degrees out there and that West Texas sun is going to boil all that new purple paint right offen her. Christ!"
Lurene floated towards me down the hallway. Her feet weren't touching the ground. I began to realize a few things: I was not in West Texas, I hadn't owned a Firebird since 1985 and that last doobie had had something in it besides solid tops.
I turned towards the sink.
"Not in there!" Lurene screamed, her hands flying out in panic.
Plates and dishes overwhelmed the sink, stacked and piled with skilful, precision engineering - a natural gift of the inordinately lazy. I veered off, turned and ran passed Lurene into the hallway, with my hands clamped over my mouth.
The bathroom door was bolted, so I stepped back and kicked it open.
My brother-in-law, Ritchie was standing at the sink, shaving. He stopped whistling 'Congratulations' at himself, when the door crashed open beside him. A glass jar jumped from its shelf and smashed on the edge of the sink, sending toothbrushes in three different directions. Richie didn't flinch.
I dodged round him and threw-up over the closed toilet lid. The one Lurene had recently covered with a fluffy pink cover. Richie's trainers were standing on top and I puked right into them, unable to stop now that I'd started.
Richie was mesmerized, watching me through the mirror, a razor held fixed against his cheek. When Luerne stepped into the room brandishing a rolled up magazine, which she proceeded to whack in my general direction, he went back to his shaving.
I'd had enough. I was living with lunatics. Any one who sticks a pink fluffy cover on a perfectly good wooden seat is a lunatic in my opinion.
I decided then and there that even if the thing outside was not my old Firebird, it didn't matter - I was going to rescue it from Luerne's brother, anyway .
. I was hitting the road.
In three steps I was at full stride, out the door, down the driveway headed...well, I didn't really know where I was headed but the situation seemed to call for motion of some sort. Apparently Lurene had similar thoughts for, even though I was running flat out, she was already at the end of the driveway, hovering, toilet cover in hand, screaming, "who's going to clean this?"
At first I thought she was talking to me; typically when she is yelling I am the target. But this time she was lobbing her bon mots elsewhere, more specifically at the thing that wasn't my Firebird. Again Lurene wailed, "who is going to clean this?!?!?! When you said you wanted samples you never said you'd be soilin' my linens!!!" Lurene has soiled linen issues from way back. "Who is going to clean this, 'caus I sure aint?!?!?"
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