Thursday, March 8, 2018

Refresh

Hello reader(s),
Obviously, I have neglected this blog for some time. 2 years 11 months to be almost exact. In that time, my previous blictional writer has since passed away, so I will have to find a new one. If the upcoming posts seem to come out of left field compared to the epic life of Boo, that would be why.


Anyway, let me wake my muse and see who she knows deep down in my multi-tenant brain.


Until then, sorry to those of you who hemorrhaged after reading the previous blog posts. I had no idea that would happen. If you need to sue someone, sue Boo. His estate isn't worth anything, but at least you should get some satisfaction from it.


Later.

Friday, April 17, 2015

A poem of significant insignificance

This poem will change your life
either that or it won't.
It may cure you of all your strife,
or leave you feeling gaunt.
It may be filled with perfect rhyme,
but it is not likely.
Because rhyming is hard.

I crumbled the parchment into an ill formed ball and tossed it on top of the other ill formed balls of parchment on the floor. They reminded me of something but I couldn't quite remember what it was. They were round like meatballs, their contents questionable, and not particularly healthy.

Meatballs... Oh yeah, I rushed into my kitchen just as the smoke alarm began to sound. Dangit, smoke break already? I left the meatballs a moment and stepped outside for a quick smoke. When the alarm finally went silent, I exhaled the last plume of smoke and turned back toward the kitchen.

This time I was met by a raging flame. It was my roommate, Antoine. He pranced around me, his sheer neck scarf drifting behind him like the fart of a chronic peppermint eater, light and slightly minty.

"Sup Antoine?" I asked out of politeness.

"Oh Hey-ay", he sang his customary reply and then flittered out of the room.

I sighed inward and headed to the freezer to get the meatballs out. Upon opening the freezer, I noticed an intense, moldy scent and the humidity of a tropical rain forest assaulted my face.

Damn, must have forgotten to pay the power bill again. Ice cream dripped from a pool on the shelf to the meatball package below it. I decided today would be a day to go out to eat. If only I had some money. I called out to Antoine.

"Hey roomie, you get paid yet?" I asked expectantly.

"Does a canary like it when its beak makes contact with a small bugs tender ass?" he replied.

"Um, I don't know..." I stammered.

"It's on the coffee table," he sighed outwardly.

I walked to the coffee room, and sure enough, floating on a pool of coffee was the money. I had asked him time and again to put it on the wooden table. The coffee table leaves it all wet and stained.

I picked up the money and wrung it out as best as I could.

"You want anything?" I yelled toward his bedroom.

"Nothing you want to give me, Boo," he shouted back.

I hate it when he calls me that. Not because he's calling me that as much as its actually my name. Boo Bronson. My parents were morons.

"I'll pay you back as soon as I sell one of my poems," I half-heartedly offered.

"Great, I can augment my retirement with it in 20 years," he taunted. "Just get the power turned back on and we'll call it even. I am having guests tonight and I need my disco lights working."

I sighed again and began to rack my brain about where I could go tonight to avoid another Antoine social event.

"OK, see you later," I said on my way out the door.

"Not if I smell you first," he chided.

I shook my head and headed out into the world. A strange place, the world. Strange and yet strangely normal with a few exceptions. That is to say, being from another world, I find it alarming at what everyone else here finds normal. Back on Earth, we didn't have coffee tables made of actual coffee for one thing. We also didn't have mandatory smoke breaks, but if you don't smoke here at least four times daily, the atmosphere will kill you, so hey, smoking's good for you. Who knew?

I checked my pack and made sure I had a few cigarettes on me and then walked into the street. As I submerge into its oily surface, I was almost overwhelmed with nausea. It passed as I passed through the street completely and emerge in front of the local store. Since the front is always locked up to prevent burglaries, I walked quietly around to the back where the non-burglar entrance is hidden behind a light pole with a sign that says "nothing to see here".

I walked around the pole and into the store. My order was waiting for me. I never did get used to that. They always had my order waiting for me, even though I never placed an order. I check it, and sure enough, there is nothing in the bag that I would have ordered. Having lived here a while now, I knew it was futile to argue with them, so I paid them, took the bag and walked back out into the street.

This time, I emerged in front of the power company's billing office. I slowly walked around to the rear and entered through their hidden entrance, cleverly masqueraded as a door shaped wooden board with a door knob on it. As I walked in I was promptly greeted by the only other person in the room, Mike.

"Hey Boo," he shouted causing me to cringe to myself.

"Hey Mike", I sighed.

"Did you get the invitation I sent you to the party tonight? I need someone to go with me that can help keep the babes off," he said way too loudly.

"It's at my house Mike. I didn't need an invitation," I groaned. "That and there are never any babes there. Just Antoine and his model buddies."

"Oh," Mike said, dejection evident in his voice. "Well, maybe this time will be different."

"Yeah Mike, maybe this time," I consoled. "Can I just pay my power bill now?"

"Oh, you aren't behind in your bill, Boo. You're house is having an outage right now. Should be back up shortly," he said, again too loudly.

"Oh, what caused the outage?" I asked.

"The lack of electricity getting to your house," he said as he shook his head at me.

"I see, um, well ok Mike, thanks. I guess I'll see you tonight," I surrendered.

"OK," he screamed.

I turned from the room and out into the street again.

As I emerged, this time I found myself outside of Suzie's house. She was standing in front of me heading toward the street.

"Oh hey Boo. I was just coming to see you," she stated, her voice like honey dripping onto a set of vocal chords in the exact right sequence to make it sound the way she sounded...

"Why were you coming to see me?" I asked.

"Well, I couldn't see you if I stayed here, I would have to go to where you were..." she said through raised eyebrows. "But lo and behold, I haven't gotten to where you were yet and yet here you are, so I guess I could have..."

"So, um, now you've seen me, now what?" I asked, trying to move the conversation along.

"I forgot," she shrugged.

I looked into all three of her eyes and sure enough, all of her pupils were dilated.

"Did you miss a smoke break?" I asked her as her skin continued to pale in front of me.

She slapped her head with the tentacle sticking out of her back, "THAT'S WHAT IT WAS."

She continued quieter, "I ran out of smokes, do you have any extra?"

Blood began running from the ear in her forehead.

"Yeah, yeah, here quick, smoke them," I said while frantically pulling the cigarettes from the pack.

A few minute slater, she was back down to two eyes, ears on the side of her head where they belong and no sign of a tentacle.

"That was close," she sighed with relief.

"Tell me about it," I stated.

"Well, you see, I ran out smokes, and was about to turn, but you saved me," she stated, a bit of annoyance in her voice. "For goodness sakes Boo, it just happened and you were standing right there."

I looked into her perturbed eyes a moment then looked away, feeling shamed though not sure what for.

"Umm, what do you have going on tonight," I asked, changing the subject.

"Currently nothing, but its not tonight yet. You should ask me that once it is tonight already, then I will know."

"Do you have any plans?" I asked, not missing a beat.

"Yes," she stated.

"Do those plans include me?" I asked hopefully.

"I don't know, haven't discussed them with you yet," her annoyance seemed to be rising.

"Right, so let's discuss them now," I suggested.

For the remaining hour, we managed to work out that she was actually breaking up with me, but not until she saw me that evening, so if I could come back later, that would be swell. Somehow, I agreed to meet her that evening so she could break up with me. Ah well, it beats being stuck at Antoine's party.

I returned to my house, washed off the days street oil and sat down at the table to finally write my poem. It was going to be epic. I plugged in my laptop to the now full electrified house and began to write, as I was all out of paper.

This was it. This was the poem that would set me up for life. I finally found the words that would make this world take me serious and maybe even change many of their lives. *chirp* I wrote frantically, each carefully crafted word more magical than the one before. *chirp* Brilliance, it was going to be amazing. Did I hear something? *chirp* Ah, it didn't matter. The world was finally going to love me. Suzie would love me. *chirp chirp chirp*

SMOKE ALARM! Oh crap. I quickly grab my pack and to my dismay found it empty. Dammit, Suzie smoked the last of my cigarettes. The third eye popped up on my forehead, right below the newly formed, bleeding ear. Tentacles sprouted out of my back. Blood began to pour from my face down on to my quickly ashening skin. I tried to scream but my tongue fell out of my mouth, right onto my keyboard, right on the backspace button. I began to panic. I hadn't saved yet. I tried to grab my tongue but my fingers had already fallen off and were replaced by what could only be described as a Jell-o like nub.

Just then, Antoine rushed in took a deep drag off of his cigarette and blew it into my face. It took 3 cigarettes of second hand smoke to get the symptoms to back off enough to where I could hold my own cigarette. Slowly, everything began to return to normal. My breathing was raspy, but I was breathing through a mouth with a tongue in it. My own tongue too, which is way better than last time.

I turned to thank Antoine, but he had already left the room. I turned back to my keyboard and sighed deeply as I realized the entire poem had been erased. I shut the lid to the laptop, and slowly stood up. Shoulders slumped, I turned from the room. The dub step had already begun in the other room with it's pounding beats and loud occasional laughter.

I sighed again, shrugged my shoulders and walked in to join them. Suzie can break up with me at another time. The poem had already left me and there was no getting it back. May as well get drunk.


Thursday, July 26, 2012

What to do?

I gaze out upon the twin moons of Myrodel and wonder which I should choose?

For years I have been studying for this day, preparing for the inevitable. Consigned at a young age to the school of the gifted, I never dreamed that it would all come down to this. I knew I had a purpose, but I did not know it was THE purpose.

What if I choose the wrong one? Well, I know what would happen, but it will cease to be happenstance once the choice is made. No, chance will no longer play a role. The responsibility is completely mine. I will be savior or destroyer of everything.

Look at that small insect crawling across the window. I can choose to smash it into oblivion, or simply let it be, oblivious to the fact that it's fate was for a brief moment in my hands. At least with that choice the outcome is known regarding which way I go. THE choice is a different story. I pick one, I do my thing, and the world as we know it either continues on, oblivious to my choice and their own peril, or they cease to exist in a spectacular and prolonged agonizing manner. All these years, all of my research and it all comes down to this one, simple, choice.

I wish I could say I was ready, that my research gave me the answers, that I know exactly which one to choose. I wish even more that I knew which outcome I preferred. The world has become so dark and miserable, crime and pettiness overshadowing the small pockets of the good and wholesome. Part of me thinks the death of this planet would bring peace to the rest of the universe.

All societies have their bad eggs, but this one just seems to have more than it's fair share. The kids who picked on me in school, who dragged me screaming through hell and sent me crying into my pillow night after night; do they deserve redemption? The teachers who abused their power and brought ridicule upon me for my mistakes and my awkwardness; do they deserve to carry on, tormenting kids yet to come?

Why do I have to be the one to choose? Why can't I just let the world reach the fate at the end of its path? I know the answer to these questions. I know that if I do not choose, that is a choice in itself and all will suffer for it. The burden is heavy.

I close my eyes and shut out the horrors of my childhood and focus on the beauty that remains in this world. The yet in-trampled flowers growing wild upon the hillside. The purple mists that drift down the cobblestone roads each morning stripping from them the wastes of the day before. The yet innocent children, not yet or not gifted enough to be consigned to a school, free of fear and insecurities. I envy their freedom and their ignorance.

I turn my gaze back upon the twin moons. They are both gray, featureless spheres, indistinguishable from each other.

The clock chimes behind me. It is time. Rising slowly, carefully, my knees begin to shake. I close my eyes, the weight of the decision pressing hard upon me. I raise my hands and begin the chant.

The words register no meaning in my mind, yet they tumble from my mouth as if my tongue knows full well their interpretation. I open my eyes and point between the two moons. Slowly, I let my hand drift. The decision is made. All I can do now is wait. May providence show mercy upon us all.

"That's it? You just spit out gibberish and point at the moon? Really? This is what you have been training for your whole life? This is what was so urgent?"

I stammer slightly and lower my eyes.

"Y-Yes, Arimella. You don't know it yet, but I think I just saved the whole world."

"With your finger?" she said, cocking her head sideways.

"Umm, and my... my words...."

"Just like that?" you could feel her disbelief growing.

"Well, we're not suffering immeasurable pain... right?" I responded, my ire rising.

"Well... no... but how do I know we were ever in any danger?"

"Because... because it is written..." I point feverishly toward the scroll in front of me.

"But, you wrote that," she said dismissively.

"What are you saying? That I made it up?" My anger is now rising.

"Well, how do I know you didn't?"

"This is the gratitude I get for saving the world? You know what, this date is over. Thank you for a miserable and ungrateful evening." I turned to storm from the room.

"Weirdo," she muttered.

I stepped out on the cobblestones and sighed, taking in a deep breath. Slowly the embarrassment fades and I start walking back toward the school.

"Hello, Miguel," a sweet voice echoes toward me.

My head shoots up and my eyes land upon the most beautiful breasts in all of Myrodel. I then slowly focus upon her better than average face.

"Oh hello, Harrielle. I did not see you there."

She smiled at me and I at her.

"Hey Harrielle, are you busy? Would you like to go out with me tonight? We can go to that new Tavern down the road. I hear it has a beautiful view of the twin moons."

"That would be lovely Miguel."

"I have something I have to do there first, though, something very urgent with dire consequences should I fail, is that ok with you?"

"Sure, Miguel, it sounds like fun," she says, excitement spreading across her face and down to her ample bosoms...

I give her my most troubled smile and take her arm in mine.

"We must hurry, we only have until the clock chimes again."

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

New thoughts

Well, I am back. Who am I, you ask? Not who you think I am, that much is for sure. After months of psychiatric care, and 30,000 volts of electricity repeatedly applied to the temples, and on at least one occasion to a place which can only be described as a bad idea amidst a storm of bad ideas... I am back.

I am not who I was when I left, so I guess the question really is, Who am I? The answer, at this current place in time is, I really do not know. I mean, before, I was whatever I wanted to be, regardless of the evidence around me or the strange looks I got. If I wanted to be a ghost, I was a ghost. If I wanted a manic depressed mailbox, I had one. If I wanted to look into a parrots eyes to tell the time, well, you get the picture.

Now, I just sit in my drab apartment, stare at the blank walls, and contemplate. Who am I? You know, as crazy as fantasy can get, I find reality to be far more sinister. At least in the fantasy world, things, though random and sometimes dangerous, kept me moving and experiencing life. Here, in reality, nothing moves unless you push it. Nothing new ever happens without a catalyst. For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. That sometimes really sucks.

Why can't it be, for every action there is another somewhat unexpected and exciting reaction? Yes we may wind up with a lot of tragedy, but can it be more tragic than the stagnant, quiet disolving of my human soul? I think not.

But here I am. Me. At least I think so...

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Sometimes things just work out

OK, let's start by saying that I call shenanigans on the whole statement that "sometimes, things just work out." I know I am the one who said it, but I was under duress. Winds up, the stay in the local jail was not all it was cracked up to be. Did you know that once in there, they lock the door behind you? Also, did you know that there is nothing in there but a bed and a toilet with no stall door? I think the stall door is missing because they forgot to actually put a stall around the toilet in the first place, but who forgets something like that? Seriously? Unfortunately for my cell mates and neighbors, they also do not supply any kind of deodorizing spray.

But you probably don't want to hear about all of that. Let's just suffice it to say, when you are very bored, with nothing but a toilet and bed available to you, you would be surprised what sort of sport you will create to keep yourself entertained.

Moving on, I am now living in a different kind of prison. It's called total and complete freedom. No bills, true, but also no money, no house, no clothes beyond what is on my back, no prospects, no hope. Yep, prison. If it weren't for computers in the library, I wouldn't even be able to update my blog. It is the one thing that keeps me sane...

OK, so sanity is a relative term, but for me, it is what keeps me from doing something stupid. Hmm, on second thought, if a quarter has 119 ridges on it's edge, I would be one with only 118. So I guess I am as batty as the uniform closet in Bruce Wayne's bat cave. So since I am not quite sane by the majority's definition, I will leave you with this one statement which has been echoing in my mind all day. An enlightening statement that if taken in the right context could change everything. That statement is: Flying frogs bruise their bottoms less...

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Stupid cerebrum

So... I forgot the awesome story I was going to tell you...

I told you I had a horrible memory. Ah well, lesson learned. Next time I will tell the story while it is fresh in my mind. Let's move forward, shall we?

I was looking over some old letters which have been collecting dust when I discovered that they weren't letters in the traditional sense. In the traditional sense, they were actually bills. Since most companies prefer the traditional sense to the more exciting fictional sense, I find I now have to move and I have no working credit cards. Oh, and the IRS is very interested in meeting me, which is not as awesome as it sounds. If I wasn't stealing my internet from an unprotected wifi somewhere out there, and my neighbors didn't have outside wall outlets, I wouldn't even be able to post today.

So, where does a guy with a negative credit score find an apartment, eletricity, internet service, food, and other things the same guy considers necessities? Keep in mind that this same guy is banned from his parents' basement due to an over reaction on the parents part over a small issue with self discovery and unusually flamable lubricants. *shiver* That is a story for another time... Where does he go, one would ask one's self if the one was the afformentioned guy?

Well, it's either the French Foreign Legion, or I am going to have to start begging my friends. Now, since I have no friends to speak of (Charlie was a good friend, but he is in witness protection now so I am not supposed to speak of him), I guess the next question becomes: How does a guy with no money and no credit cards, get to the nearest French Foreign Legion recruiting station?

I thought about learning french, speaking it in public until they checked me for papers and when I didn't produce any, getting deported to France, but that would take too long and I would probably just wind up in Canada anyway. Not to mention I can't afford French lessons. It is a vicious circle, really.

So here I am, me, myself and my dilemma. Wait a second, I'll be right back, there is a knock on the door...
...
...
...
...
...
Dilemma solved. Apparently, when some bills aren't paid, they give you a free room at the local jail. I am supposed to be getting my jacket and then going with them. See, sometimes, things just work out.

Friday, January 21, 2011

Who was that guy?

I came home today from travelling abroad and found that a squatter was living in my house. Now, this didn't bother me so much since he did a pretty good job keeping it clean. He even sorted my socks. The problem was, he has been publishing to my blog. I know I should have hidden the password somewhere, but I have such a horrible memory. Maybe it was a bit much to have the address and the password written on a piece of paper next to the computer, on a whiteboard above the computer and even scrolling across the screen of my computer after 10 minutes of inactivity, but it was in my house. You'd think you could trust the squatters to not get into things that aren't theirs'. Well, you can pretty much expect them to get into houses that aren't theirs', I mean, they are squatters after all, but that should be all you would have to expect them to get into. You can't trust anyone these days.

Anyway, I let him finish sorting my socks while I took a nap and then I rushed him from my house with a stern wagging of my finger in his general direction, but not until I got his number. After all, my socks aren't going to sort themselves.

At any rate, here I am, back from where I have been. Of course that goes without saying. If I hadn't of been anywhere other than here, then saying I was back would be somewhat of a fib. If I wasn't here typing this now, I'd still not be back, which would not only be a lie to say I was, but a bit of a paradox as well. But I digress...

I am here now, and boy do I have some cool stuff to tell you all. You would not believe what happened to me while I was out abroad. When I tell you this story, you guys are going to be like, "Wow, dude, I can't believe that happened. What an awesome story and you told it so well!" It will be that epic.

But, look at the time. I will have to tell you later. It is freaking unbelievable...

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Boo

Did I mention that I am not much of a practical joker?

It would appear that in death, I am just as bad at it as I was in life, though my bad jokingness has further reaches now that I can hop around from wood chipped garden to wood chipped garden.

So, I popped into a garden just outside the desert province of Makinta. I could not feel the heat, but it looked hot, being a desert and all of that. Not sure why they had a garden full of woodchips there, but I figured it was as good a place as any to pull my first prank as a ghost.

Now, what did I know about being a ghost? Well, nothing really. I knew ghosts liked to move things around and scare people, but that was about the extent of it. Since I did not have a guide book, I decided to wing it.

I floated into the house and slowly worked my way around the limits of my 20 foot radius. I had a corner of the bed room, another corner of the great room, and almost an entire bathroom. This was no normal bathroom though. It had an old fashioned toilet with a plunger next to it. I had only seen these a couple of times at a few travelling museums, but it was obvious what it was meant for.

I figured if I put the plunger in the toilet, the owner, when he or she came home, would become paranoid because they surely did not leave a plunger in the toilet before they left for the day. It would have scared me to come home and find something like that had happened. Then when they were really worried about it, I would blow on the back of their neck and really freak them out. How was I to know that they would not be home until nightfall, and that they tended to go to the bathroom without turning on the lights...

I can still hear the scream...

People really shouldn't just plop down like that without looking first. I mean, a fella could get hurt...

You'd think the old man had never used a human waste disposal device before, either. If he had, the plunger handle, though uncomfortable, would not have been near as painful... It was then that I realized, the man had NOT used a human waste disposal before. It had not been invented yet. Somehow, not only had my woodchips been delivered to various locations through space, but they had also made a few drop shipments through time.

By the time I got back to the computer next to the library garden that I am using to post this message, several days had passed. On a whim, I got on the Uninet and looked up the address of the old man. It winds up, he was a scientist, and it was from a mysterious encounter with a plunger that he had designed the first Human Waste Disposal device...

It was all my fault. If I had not played the joke on him, we would probably all still be dropping our kids off at the pool, floating logs to the paper mill, dropping gator... you get where I am going with this...

But what was done is done, I guess. I will be more careful going forward. I mean, I don't want to find out that I was the one who brought about the sand blaster method of circumcision...

Monday, March 29, 2010

That wasn't a room, that was my life...

As implied in the subject of today's post, I am no longer among the living. It's true. It has taken me a few days to figure out how to post in my now incorpreal state but it wound up being surprisingly easy.

Oh, how did I die you ask? It's the darnedest thing actually. Remember when I told you I had found a room in town and would write more about town after I had gotten some sleep? Well, you don't get more sleep than this. And that room, well, it wasn't actually a room at all. It winds up, someone had left a rather large wood chipper box just sitting there looking all room like. I just thought all those blades were some kind of post modern art. It wasn't until I tried to turn on the light switch, which incidentally was not a light switch, that my delimma was realized. As realization dawned, I found myself suddenly fertalizing a large pile of wood chips on the other side of the "room".

It really was quite painless, you know, compared to getting a 100000 razor cuts while swimming in a pool of 120 proof. That is to say, it hurt like hell, but only briefly. The next thing I knew, I could fly, which is actually kind of sweet, however, I can only fly within about 20 feet of where my splatter landed.

Now, you would think this would be a boring fate, never being able to fly beyond your own remains, but remember, my remains were spread over a pile of wood chips. Wood chips that are even now being carried to gardens unknown in places across the known world. I can already see a lot of places I recognize and many I don't. It seems wherever my splatter is taken, a piece of me (please excuse the redundant phrasing) goes as well. I discovered that I can actually pop in and out of each of these locations at will.

I have never been much of a practical joker, well, not since the whole Joey incident, but in my new state, I am feeling a wee bit froggy. I think I will go out and test my limits now. Barring some unforeseeable incident with a camaflagued Ghost chipper, I should be back later to report on my activities.

In case the unforeseeable incident comes to fruition, just know this...

Oh, I forgot what I was going to say....

Ah well, maybe I'll send more news tomorrow.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Fresh Air

Finally! My house quit playing tricks on me today, so I was finally able to go outside. It started off uneventful enough. The only thing of note being that the grass had left my yard to mingle with the greener grasses of my neighbors yard. No loyalty whatsoever these days.

At any rate, I shrugged it off and headed for the path into town. Normally, by foot, it would take approximately 8 hours, 17 minutes, and 33 seconds to walk into town, give or take a day, but the township had installed these new government run transports for our convenience. I should be there sometime next month, barring a reoocuarnce of last month's delimma where the good folks in town who pull the rope that drags the conveyance toward town at an exhillerating pace of a dead chipmunk, (We call those folks the Tack-Spayers, I have no idea where it comes from) all at once decided to take a holiday. By the time they came back, and pulled us the rest of the way into town, 5 passengers had died from natural causes, (naturally they had gotten on someone's nerves and were beaten to death), a baby was born (and I believe conceived on the same voyage), and I had managed to learn how to whistle between my fingers, much to the dismay of my fellow passengers. They had only beaten me a little though, so all in all, uneventful.

I got to the conveyance station and noticed the ropes connecting it to the mountain pass which it would be hoisted over seemed be missing. Several folks on the transport had already grown beards and I thought I heard the cry of a new born baby, so I decided to walk.

I could climb the mountain pass, walk the 8 hours around the east face, or just take the tunnel and be there in a few minutes. I chose the 8 hour walk. Bad things happen in that tunnel. Bad... bad... things.

But I digress. I walked the normal path and got there just as the twin suns disappeared on the other side of the mountain. I guess I'll be staying in town tonight.

Tomorrow, I'll explore town a bit and fill you in.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

Never blink

Wow, two days have passed... I must have blinked. Stupid time displacement parrot. Ah well, it happens. I guess its Karma coming around to bite me. I never should have talked Joey into checking the time knowing that he has some kind of Turret Syndrome that causes him to twitch and blink a lot. As far as I know, he is still standing in my old apartment staring into that parrot's eyes.

It was funny at the time... and the complex has been curse word free ever since, but still, it does make me feel bad from time to time. But enough dwelling on the past. On to the events of the day.

There were no strange, time misplaced, roars coming from outside, and the Parrot did mention that the year was now 1217 AD, so I figured it would be somewhat safe to go outside. So I did just that. Except, when I opened the door and stepped where my yard was predisposed to hanging out, I found myself stepping out of my bedroom instead, and into the bathroom.

Ok, maybe I was dreaming. I thought about it for a few moments and then pinched myself, stifling a yelp of surprise, and decided right then and there that if you were going to pinch yourself, maybe it would be best to pick a spot that didn't take too long to recover from. And never do it while using the bathroom. To easy to make painful mistakes.

At any rate, I removed the human waste disposal device, which I honestly do not remember inserting in the first place, emptied it into the nano-bot feeder and then walked back into my bedroom. Or so I had thought. Winds up, I found myself entering the kitchen instead. At this point, it was evident that the day was not going to improve.

I opened the refrigerator and reached in to grab some cold protein and nearly cried out as the intense heat of the oven seered my flesh. Ok, now it was just getting dangerous. I decided to sit in the middle of the room and write my latest update.

That was my day so far...

Maybe Randomida, or is it Randomima now, maybe this place wasn't such a good idea after all...

I wonder if it would let me move. I hear there is a planet with a single sun, where the occupants are more of a danger to themselves than their surroundings are. I shall look into this.

Friday, March 19, 2010

Better late than never

I know, I know. I have been remiss in posting my daily updates, but what can I say? My curtains came in, and since then, I have not been able to keep my days in order. I have apparently slept through 2 full days. If it had not been for the dire need to use the human waste disposal device (not to be confused with the human disposal device, won't make that mistake twice), I would probably still be asleep.

But enough excuses. On to my day. We will skip pass the relief effort, as I am sure all of you know how the human waste disposal device works. I mean, who could forget something so uncomfortable and often painful. I am certain we all would if we could. At any rate, when the bleeding stopped, I checked the time.

Now this process is not as simple as it sounds. First you have to look into the eyes of the time displacement parrot. Don't blink, unless you want to spend the next 24 hours locked in that exact moment. I have lost many a day that way. Once the parrot completes his journey through time and space, he will respond to you as appropriate.

"It is 2 hours, 37 minutes, 14 seconds passed the noon hour..." it started.

"Ah good", I thought, it's about my normal time to get up.

"March 19th..." it continued.

"Wow, 2 days overslept. Good thing I had nothing better to do..." my mind rambled.

"21970992 BC!" the parrot concluded.

Wait, what?

Just then, I heard a god aweful noise coming from outside. I ran to the front door, well, more like a brisk jog... ok, so I slowly crept to the front door and peered out the window. I peered to the left, taking notice that my newly budding daffodils were just shrugging off the deadly effects of the morning suns rise. I then slowly glanced to the right and discovered the mailbox was not only full, but crying hysterically. But that is pretty routine. It cries everytime a bill comes in. It is such a sensitive mailbox.

Oh, and there was a giant Tyranosourus Rex glaring at me. The mailman's legs were still hanging from it's mouth. It slurped them in and looked away as if hoping I had not just witnessed it devouring the guy who brings such sadness to my mailbox every day.

I closed the curtains and decided today would be a good day to stay in. You know, watch some UniverseTube, take care of some neglected personal hygeine issues, survive to live another day...

I'll let you know how that goes tomorrow, good lord willing.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

Newer and more exciting...er... things

So I woke up this morning, crushed up against my furry space ferret. I know it's not a very original name for a creature, but it is so aptly named. I mean, it gets in the way every now and then, but it makes for a very warm blanket when it sleeps due to the way it expands until it has taken up all available space in the room. Who needs throw pillows and comforters when you have a space ferret.

All that aside, I had just woken up from a frightfilled night of sleeping poppy's and gem stoned dragons when I thought I had heard a noise in the room. At first I thought Filkie, my space ferret, had maybe crushed my hamsters but then I remembered, they never woke up from the last time he did that. So I poked at Filkie until he woke up and rather groggily shrank back to his normal ferret size. As he did, I was immediately blinded... again... by the twin suns' abusive radiance. Man, I wish I knew when those curtains were going to come in.

I started to cuss, knowing that I had at least 10 filacs on the nightstand with which I could pay toward the local swear jar, when I heard the noise again. I tried to locate the source, but my head was still throbbing and all I could see were orange and violet splotches. It wasn't until one of the splotches moved, most definitely one of the violet ones, that I realized that someone, or something, was in the room with me.

"Who's there?" I yelled out.

"No one," came a soft yet unconvincing gender neutral voice.

"If you're no one, then how is it that I hear you?" I asked, doing my best to portray an "I got you" look, which was rather difficult, what with all the blinking and everything.

The voice, having been gotten, remained silent. I struggled to blink away the morning dazzle when I heard the previously gotten No one moving closer to me.

"What do you want?" I asked, more out of terror than polite ice breaker.

The violet splotch paused for a moment and then reluctantly spoke up.

"I was sent to warn you," it eventually uttered.

"Warn me? Warn me of what?" I asked, my eyes most assuradely crossed.

"I am to warn you to stay indoors and quit wandering Randomida," it replied trying to sound menacing, successfully, I might add.

"I thought it was called Randomica?" I queried.

"It was," said the voice, a sudden confused tone masking it's evil malice.

"What do you mean it was?" I asked, starting to get a feel for the conversation.

"It's not just the terrain and occupants that change every day... Heck, it hasn't been Randomica in a couple of weeks," the voice added incredulously.

I could feel my blush burn through the haze of colors swirling before my face.

"What was it called yesterday," I asked hesitantly.

"Randomila, of course," it stated matter of factly.

"Of course," I pretended to understand. "So, umm, why am I supposed to stay inside?"

"Because you are upsetting the natural order," it stated flatly.

"What? How am I doing that?" I responded, feeling a new headache coming on.

"You are introducing an element which is not condusive to the nature of.. " the sound of shuffling papers rose up from the violet splotch," nature...," it finished.

"Oh," I replied, hoping the dejection in my voice translated properly for the violet splotch.

"So, how do I cleanse myself of this 'element' so I can venture back outside?" I asked after a long, sad pause.

"I dunno, it would take an act of randomness, I guess," it responded with a bit of a curious tone.

I thought about this as I quietly smeared the ferret's head into a half eaten orange.

"How do I do that?" I asked.

The voice sighed to itself, muttered something about "never mind, you are good to go" and then faded away. As a matter of fact, I couldn't even see the splotch anymore. Everything in the room came sharply into focus. No one was there, and by that I mean I was alone with my ferret, dead hampsters, and piles of clean but unkempt socks, not to be confused with the aforenamed No one who embodied the previously mentioned purple splotch.

Just then the door opened and 3 small birds flew in and grabbed hold of my hair and forcibly drug me outside into the setting suns' light.

Now, I am not sure what to make of all of this, but I felt at the very least, it was worth sharing. But after reading over it, I may be having second thoughts...

Monday, March 15, 2010

New and exciting things

I woke up this morning, as most morning, blinded by the twin suns both breaking the horizon at exactly the same moment and sending their orange and violet rays directly into my still sleep filled eyes. Quickly my lids closed in a vane attempt to protect my throbbing head from the illuminating assault but, alas, they were too late. 40 minutes later, my vision cleared and I was able to officially start my day. First order of business, get on EDock and order those new lead lined curtains for my bedroom window.

Once the order was placed, I decided to take the time to find a matching pair of socks within the many piles that littered my room. This was a big step for me, having finally figured out how to use the Clothing Sanitation System, I now had piles of clean clothes thrown everywhere. Maybe today I should try to figure out the Clothing Orderly Space Management System. Nah, one technological victory per week should suffice, less I get a big head.

Two hours later, after eating my daily dose of protein and fiber, I checked the radiometer and found that the twin suns had pushed out as much death as they were going to on this day, so I decided to head outside and see what new wonders would meet me.

You see, in these parts, everyday brings something different. On the other side of the planet, they never see anything new. The same animals, plants, rocks, people... Nothing ever changes. That's why I moved out here to the Randomica in the first place. I need variety. It's also why my last twelve or so relationships crashed and burned like a Nebulonian Phoenix in a Methlab, but I digress.

Just this morning, a curious new breed of poppy appeared. It had a very unique protection mechanism. When I attempted to get a closer look, it sprayed a strange gel at me. The gel was cold and soothing to the touch but didn't have any ill effects on me. The poppy however slumped over and emitted a soft snoring sound. I pushed it and pushed it, but it simply would not stand back up. An odd little flower...

But let me tell you what I found later this afternoon. I was walking through the strangle vine forest, an oddly named forest filled with large oak-like trees but not a single visible vine among them, when I came across a cave where yesterday there had been a quiet pond. I carefully walked up to its entrance and peered within, curiosity being my greatest of vulnerabilities. There, where once had floated a small island complete with a tiny fruit tree, now sat what had to be the cutest little critter I had ever laid eyes upon. It was covered in scales as green and opulent as emeralds. It looked back at me through glowing ruby eyes. It opened its elongated snout into a jagged filled yawn, it's slight movement casting rainbow hues across the cavern walls. I smiled at it with unhidden adulation and started to walk toward it. I simply had to touch it. As I approached it, caution now thoroughly thrown to the wind, I reached out my hand to let it sniff me. That is what you are supposed to do, right? They sniff, they smell that you are a good person and then they let you pet them, put a collar on their neck and take them home to fetch slippers and look cute for the prospective ladies? Well, it sniffed my hand all right. It then screamed with a startling loudness "POPPY PUSHER!!!" and then ran deep into the cave.

I was flabbergasted...

The next thing I know, I was swimming next to a small island with a fruit tree in a small quiet pond. Though disconcerting, it was not as frightful an experience as knowing that I would have to now go home and try to remember how to use the Clothing Sanitation System to clean and dry my favorite, and only, pair of matched socks.

So, how was your day?

Welcome to the Daily Day Dream Blog of Gus Gallows

A most warm welcome to my readers now numbering in the single digits... Ok, so I don't have any yet, but I can dream, right? Heck, that's the whole purpose of this particular blog. Most blogs these days are based on facts and the going ons of various folks who do not mind putting it out there for the world to see. This one is going to be different. I do not wish to bore you with doldrum day to day activities of an aspiring author who fills too much time managing email systems for a living. So I thought, why not nurture my muse and write a blog that is completely fictional? I know, right?

So here is my pledge to you. Nothing in this blog will ever be based on fact and only sometimes loosely related to reality (much like its author). This is where my day dreams will come to life for you to read, if you are so bold and/or bored to be inclined to read them. I hope so. I look forward to your comments and thank you for taking time from your busy schedules to share my day dreams.

Much love,
Chris Allen, AKA Gus Gallows