Tinfoil Viking Science: Before My Mastery

Situation Normal. Atmosphere Breathable. Brainstem Injected. Dialogue Engaged.

Friday, August 05, 2005

Before My Mastery

"Here. Eat this."

"I hate mushrooms."

"These are special."

"Okay. If you say so. Here goes nothin'."

I ate two handfuls of dry spongy mushrooms. The stems were fuzzy and the caps were tinged with gold. The taste was akin to soggy tree bark. Yes, I've eaten bark. Very earthy and unpleasant. After washing down the nastiness with warm flat beer, I excused myself from the campsite.

"I'm gonna go find a nice place to drop a deuce. I'll be back soon."

"Don't wipe with poison ivy, boy scout!"

Half a mile deep into the woods, I found a stream and followed it. Call me Magellan. Truth is, I always wanted to shit down a waterfall. I would've settled for an overflowed beaver dam. I walked creekside for a while until I found the perfect spot. It was four feet tall, and to my mind, quite a find. Murky brownish water gurgled lazily down the modest incline. I dropped trou and squatted, one boot on the bank and the other on a flat rock protruding from the stream. My ass relaxed and a formidable mixture of liquids and solids escaped in frenzied staccato bursts like a seizure ridden epileptic working a caulking gun.

"Ploonk.... pa-ploonk." The stream swallowed my refuse. I stood halfway up and bent over, looking between my legs, my eyes following a happy floating turd to the edge of the incline, where it fell four feet from grace down to the resumption of the moving waterway.

I wiped with benign foliage and hiked my pants back up to my waist. Zipped, buttoned. Excellent. I turned and walked upstream whence I came. I was halfway back when the shrooms began to tug at my peripheral vision. Pixies, sprites, gnomes, leprechauns, and tribal pygmies darted to and fro at the edges of my sight. They all refused to remain still, and each time I whipped my head about to catch a full glimpse of one, the elusive little creature would dart behind a bush. My neck grew sore with whiplash.

"Alright you fuckers. Daddy's having midget eskimo skewers for dinner tonight! Watch out! I'll pounce upon thee with glorious abandon! Hi-yahhhh!"

Three hours later my friends found me. They'd been searching with flashlights for a long time. They found me covered in mud hopping about like a frog, stabbing holes in the earth.

"I think I got one. Finally!"

"Steve, get up man. Come back to the campfire."

I switched to LSD after that.

12:00 PM - Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm

11 Comments:

August 05, 2005 12:08 PM, Anonymous said...: ooh! are you going to have a story about some random forest critter having a bad trip, or a good one?? that would be wicked pisser.
August 05, 2005 12:15 PM, Bottle Rocket Fire Alarm said...: Nope, just this weak toss-off effort you see now. I've been blank for couple days, but I feel guilty if I don't post something, anything. Hopefully it's worth at least a chuckle.

I actually would never behave this way. I've always been good at handling drugs.
August 05, 2005 2:31 PM, EcamirG said...: for some reason, i enjoy the fact that you gave quotation marks to your fecal onomotopeias.
August 05, 2005 2:48 PM, Bookfraud said...: "drop a deuce" and "the stream swallowed my refuse" was worth the price of admission alone. and i thought "toss a loaf" was the ne plus ultra of shitting metaphors.
August 05, 2005 4:12 PM, Amanda B. said...: That reminds me, I need to post on my blog about the night I had to babysit my friend Chad after dropping acid. Talking plants, cold Kleenexes stuffed inside a Marlboro carton to keep warm, a floor that disappeared and floormats that acted as floating islands made for a hell of a night. Oh, and one pink fuzzy bunny slipper. And the best part is: it's all true. It will just have to wait untitl I get back from vacation.
August 05, 2005 5:19 PM, OldHorsetailSnake said...: I thought peyote tasted better than tree bark. It is nice to come here and get educated.
August 06, 2005 11:12 AM, Dave Morris said...: Epileptics make incredible painters though. Keep your caulk guns locked up, but put a watercolor brush in their hands, put on a rain poncho and sit back with a cigar. Always a good time.
August 06, 2005 12:12 PM, Joe said...: "I'll pounce upon thee with glorious abandon!" That's not the shrooms talking, is it? You talk like that all the time, right?

(PS - I've changed URLs. I'm now at http://tossedmysalad.blogspot.com. Be a pal and update my link?)
August 06, 2005 9:45 PM, ... said...: I am amazed that the "wild life" did not attack you for shitting in their stream....:)
August 07, 2005 10:57 PM, Latigo Flint said...: Oh great. Thanks a lot. Now I want to shit off a waterfall. A giant one - Vernal or Niagaraic in stature. You may have just killed me Steve.
August 08, 2005 11:17 AM, Lance Manion said...: I love eskimo skewers. Especially if you can sautee some of those little mushroom houses they live in.