Monday, January 13, 2003
Just Say Whoa
My tummy is rumbling like a garbage disposal full of coffee grounds and turkey bones. I'm pouring syrupy sweet Red Bull atop the compost pile in my stomach, and hopefully my next cancer stick will inspire some movement, for good or ill.
Enough about biology.
I delivered a pizza to a group of stoned waterheads the other day. A guy with a Grateful Dead t-shirt answered the door, coughing, his bloodshot eyes magnified by his glasses. He looked like a fish. A girl yelled "Don't tip him! ha ha ha!" She was obviously joking. I told him his total. He fumbled with his crumpled cash, eyeing it vacantly. Then, like a dog returning a stick, he tried handing me different combinations of the bills. Watching me, seeking approval. His total was 21.95, so I simplified it to 22. He gave me no tip after I pulled $22 from his hands. He looked up at me with an infantile blinking. "Okay?" "Yeah. Here, take the pizza." A bong bubbled somewhere in the house. I left disgruntled, with no tip.
Don't smoke marijuana, kids. You'll become a drooling imbecile that enjoys Chinese water torture music like Pink Floyd. Your brain will become a gong beaten slowly. Eventually you'll speak in slow-motion and end every sentence with "dude" or "man." Your mother will be disappointed and your father will be embarrassed. Your dog will walk you. You'll laugh at commercials starring children pretending to be adults. You'll buy lava lamps. If you're going to abuse drugs, try the ones that'll make you interesting.
I have a massaging showerhead. Instead of the regular shower sprinkle, I can set it for five pulsing water lazers. I aim this into my ears, up my nose, and down my throat. It makes me choke and spaz, but it dislodges popcorn shells from teeth even better than a toothbrush, and it boxes my uvulva like a punching bag. That's more valuable than it sounds. Since I smoke a pack a day, I need a lot of torque to powerwash the tar. If you intend to purchase something fancy and luxurious like this, be warned that it's easy to bruise your eyeballs if your aim strays for even a moment.
I was discussing eggs with the roomie and his girl last night, and I've decided to make a special breakfast. In the beginning of The Neverending Story, Bastion's dad puts vodka, orange juice, and a raw egg into a blender. I think that's a great idea and I intend to try it. My current favorite is runny eggs on toast. Something about the combo of melted butter and bleeding yolk makes for a satisfying eating experience. The roomie's girl says she can make a tye-dye sunny-side up egg with food coloring. I'm a bit frightened by this, but I will try it if she's not bluffing. The last food I enjoyed that colorful was Fruity Pebbles, and that was a long time ago.
Have a nice Monday.
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