Situation Normal. Atmosphere Breathable. Brainstem Injected. Dialogue Engaged.
Thursday, March 31, 2005

Celery Stalker

Another voicemail message: "Steve, fucking call me." Click.

What did I do this time? It was early, so I neglected to return the irate message. He finally called later this morning. My misbehavior is catching up to me. People are adding my name to the "Do Not Invite" list because I break glasses, fall over, and insult people.

"People are talking. They don't like the person you're becoming. I've already been told you're not welcome at a certain party this weekend."

I figure this all began when I quit smoking. I get fidgety and I can't sit still, particularly in social situations. I have to keep in motion. Cigarettes were my punctuation for life, metronomic inhalations separating my colliding moments. Now, since there's no cigarettes, I seek substitutions. I take another sip of my beer. I slam another shot of whiskey. I pop another handful of pills. I dust up another line. This accumulates quickly and I'm retarded within hours. I forget my manners and lose my coordination. Suddenly I'm a gibbering jackass.

When the rest of the room is rolling on ecstasy and their eyes are rolling up into their heads, they want to be surrounded with seesawing blissed out murmuring people like themselves. They want techno music and blacklights. They want people sitting. Not standing, pacing, or gesticulating. They do not want to hear me yelling about "truckers tumbling their trailers across my lanes and taxis zooming for my bumper like bees to honey." I ramble and stop mid-sentence and when I realize they're staring at me, I blurt "What?" and make like I'm about to charge. Flinching ensues.

So that's why everybody is holding their pens in a stabbing clutch. Because of me. I thought they shared my attitude towards the pets, but they probably like those stinky balls of shit. Nobody else wants to blind the ferret and wrench its teeth out. It's me they expect to fend off with a ball point thrust.

More information was shared. The television did not attack me. I knocked over a drink sitting atop it. The fruity concoction spilled into the grill vent while I stood there trying to figure out gravity.The owner cleaned it off. Maybe there were crackling noises emitting from the back of the device. Possibly some wisps of pineapple steam. I remember none of this. So I still have no idea where I got my wound.

I can understand why people would hate me for this. I feel contrite but there's nothing I can say to soothe anybody at this point. I didn't even know until this morning. My best guess from the previous voicemail was that I tackled the TV, pummelled it, beat my chest, and howled to celebrate my triumph over technology. My assumption was incorrect.

I'm staying home this weekend to do push-ups and read Doctor Who novels. I've been collecting Easter hambones from perplexed and suspicious acquintances all week. I'm going to boil them all on Saturday afternoon. My hearty ham soup is truly a wonder for the palate.

After I eat, my burps will be visible. A cloud of green particles and fat globules will hover above my face. I'll watch the surreal display until a gust of secondhand smoke blows in from a roomate's room and disperses my pride.
1:37 PM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm


March 31, 2005 2:17 PM, Blogger Monkey said...

Damn your writing is SO GOOD!!!!!!

You rock!

March 31, 2005 4:07 PM, Blogger Lostinspace said...

Maybe you should go back to cigarettes. Why not? Just a hit.

March 31, 2005 5:03 PM, Blogger Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm said...

Thanks, Monkey!

Lost In Space: No, damn you! I will not smoke. I like your blog but there's no comments or email so I have no way to say so except here. I hope you see this. Keep up the reflections.

March 31, 2005 5:08 PM, Blogger OldHorsetailSnake said...

I quit smoking 15 days ago. I think my wife will unlock me from the closet in about six months. Did you know the crack under the door is so small that even split peas can't get in?

March 31, 2005 5:20 PM, Blogger Ivy Dillinger said...

Do you read while doing pushups?


March 31, 2005 5:21 PM, Blogger Lostinspace said...

Thanks dude. I had to leave the comments off for a while, due to, you know, obscene comments that I got from random people in a while. At some point, I will release it for commenters. But here's my email: Oh well, I guess I trust your readership with it. If not cigs, then maybe heroin? Ha.

March 31, 2005 11:52 PM, Blogger ty bluesmith said...

that.was.awesome. made me lol and lol-ing made me rip a really loud one.

i'm glad i'm not the only one.

April 01, 2005 8:12 AM, Blogger Kerouaced said...

Great piece. The cessation of cigarette smoking will wreak havoc in your life for some time and the void must be filled, your life must be restructured. You will be shunned from the smokers group that meets outside at work or at a party and feelings of remorse will ensue when you see them going out for a smoke without you. You can take solace though in the fact that your lungs are healing and the best thing you can do is LIVE DAMN IT LIVE! Breathe in that fresh air and sprint up the stairs without passing out from oxygen depravation. It’s a beautiful thing…

April 01, 2005 8:27 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

You learn the hard way that when you quit, your body does not metabolize things the same. Your tolerance will never be what it was. Practice enjoying your drinks the way the french enjoy their food, and you'll soon adjust to your new state. Hey, at least its a cheaper high, right?

April 01, 2005 9:44 AM, Blogger Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm said...

Horsetail, good luck. I thought quitting smoking was easy. I don't crave them, and haven't since I made my decision. Cold turkey was a comfortable room temperature to me. Now I realize they're getting to me in a wholly different way, as I wrote above.

Ivy, Good idea! Once I hone my telekinesis I'll be able to turn pages while I get in shape.

LostInSpace, Heroin isn't for me. I like stimulants. Last time I snorted heroin I had to lay flat on my stomach for three hours to prevent the dry heaves. The times before I routinely burned holes in my clothing with cigarette cherries and nearly burned down several residences. I haven't touched that garbage in four years and I never will again. Yes, I realize you were being flip. I think I'll try Nyquil.

John, thank you!

Steve, thank you also. I get my arrogant little superiority buzz when I see people bumming one cig each from every person at the party like a dog trying to beg food from the new guests at the dinner table that aren't immune to the puppy dog eyes yet.

Even though three months is probably far too soon for me to be getting smarmy, even if I keep it to myself in public.

Anonymous, you're exactly right. No more Iron Steve with The Bottomless Belly.

April 01, 2005 10:02 AM, Blogger Saucy Monk said...

ya know what it is? It's the Doctor Who. There's some subliminal shit in there that will fuck you up, dude. Best to chill with a Which Way book this weekend. Keep it simple. Then rage.

April 03, 2005 11:12 PM, Blogger Matteus Von Mustard said...

While i love fine wines as much as -- no scratch that -- more than the next man, a good number of your posts appear to be about finding out about embarrassing things you did at parties but were too intoxicated to remember. Perhaps, you should stop after a dozen drinks and enjoy the buzz?


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