Wednesday, March 19, 2008

on a fistfight with a shabby rabbi* over an antique cauldron (in pretty good shape though...the cauldron, not the rabbi)

Hey!

It's been a while since I've shoveled my nutritious prose-gruel down your throats, and I won't do that today. Instead I only ask you, with minimal force-feeding-inspired gyrations, to read. So calm down already, assuming you aren't already calm.

I suppose I owe you some explanation for my extended absence. Alas, the story is unbelievable, terrible even; but if you stuck around until the semi-colon then I am forced to conclude I rendered you a kneeling, drool-coated wreck, (in)explicably rapt at the words thundering across your screen. At this point, considering your state, it would be crueller than Sunday dinner with a pack of starving (but still spry) hyenas long past the taste-acquisition phase as it pertains to man-flesh. Much like that hollywood starlet! Right. Whores, sinners, the lot of 'em#. So as you sit there, your waste pooling around you in deference to the attention my words command, mind this: I'm not a cruel master. Not the sort of man/(manbot?) to leave your fingertips eroded to the bone by your never ceasing search of the "Information Routes Internet" and your local library for clues as to the cause of my vacation from giving your eyes something to think about: that thing: treasure maps. Nope, here you go:

OK, I'll get back to that later. The important thing now, you find yourself thinking, is where am I going to be the next couple of days. All you need to know, nosy-britches, is that I won't have access to the city-block-sized mainframe that generates these web-log entries. So rather than set the timer (worse than a VCR, am I right!?), I won't. But that's ok. I suggest rereading a handful of my previous "posts" forever.

*His tunic might as well have been pulled fresh from the sewar after a tobacco-juice-spit rainstorm. Forelock like a coyote with mange.

#I'm sure the majority of starlets, all of 'em even, are nice people. I mean to say, I don't hate women, and this in the face of their endless onslaught of puppy-theft and court orders%#

%#I don't really have any court orders against me. I'm a reasonable fellow^#$.

^#$And you'd do mothereffin well to agree with me there, son!

!No footnoot, just an exclamation mark.

Final words: exclamation, farm, and taxidermy-induced carpal tunnel syndrome

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Interesting to know.