Showing posts from August, 2021

Three Twenty-Eight a.m., Sunday, 21 August 2005, But Really Nine Thirty-Two a.m., Sunday, 22 August 2021

Stu is home. He was not home before he sat down to type this. But he is home now. Stu is sleepy. Notice that he writes in the present tense and in the third person. Does he succeed? Observe how he avoids the use of contractions. Does he fail? Know that his real name is not “Stu.” Does it matter? Although Stu tends to stew he is never up this late or this early. And yet, and so, or nevertheless, apart from typing this , Stu finds the energy to stand on a chair and smear the north wall of his bedroom with the guts of some many legged bug. Yes, some many legged bug had the audacity to crawl up his wall. And now it is smeared: the bug, its guts, the wall. Well, smeared not ALL over his wall. Most bugs, in this day and age, are not so large. (Compared to walls.) Add to the lengthy list yet another completely valid reason for why Stu should have the walls of his room repainted. But he waffles. Why? Because waffles are tasty. No, he waffles because he does not want to lose his privacy to a pa

Laundering Sorceress

Wench! *   It’s all your fault! Solely. YOU alone are to blame… Why my stage-focus is now non-existent, why my entrances are all late, my cues dropped, my lines forgotten, my props left backstage, a million things… You, wench, washed my costume; and now that it smells so good — now that I can’t stop sniffing at my Bounce scented sleeves — I can’t act! Never before has a costume of mine felt so soft, smelt so clean! Alas! This snags at my entire Method-esque approach. Wise men from the Dark Ages simply aren’t supposed to smell so… so fresh, nor appear so… so pristine. Worse: Now? I’m probably the most immaculate character on stage — possibly cleaner than the king himself! It simply won’t do. Not that you should pluck the costume from its hanger and sully it in the dirt of the nearby tot lot — NO!! ABSOLUTELY NOT!!! I FORBID IT!!!! I’ll just have to…  as they say…  in the “biz”…  “ Use it.”  Yes. Henceforth, I’ll have to be known as the Neat As A New Pin Wise Man. Yes.  From now on? 

S T R E A M # 2

April 7, 2008 : The alligator ate the lollipop at seven twenty-three in the morning. He did not enjoy its taste. So he spit it out and ate a tuna fish instead. But he didn’t enjoy the tuna’s taste, either. It probably needed some mayo. That’s just a guess. What meat isn’t improved with a dab of mayo? A dab of mayo and a bit of grilling. Eh? Alas, these are pleasures an alligator — or, at least, your typical alligator — could never know of. Crocodiles are an altogether different matter somewhat entirely. Thus, or hence, mayonnaise and grilling are two benefits of being human. Like the word “moist,” mayo gets a bad rap. This is foolish. Moist cake is tasty. Dry cake is intolerable. Any dry turkey sandwich is improved with a dab or a smear of mayo. While a dab or a smear or a glob of, say, Grey Poupon is preferable to mayo, such is not always readily available. Mayo, on the other hand, is nearly as ubiquitous as simple tomato ketchup and basic yellow mustard. The sun goes down for a momen

Digressions from Apples

04/26/05 : An Apple  must  be crisp. [FireVaney holds out a large, ripe, shiny one for all to see.] When an apple loses it crispness — and this occurs shortly before its innards begin to turn brown — you should no longer hold interest in it. A soft slice of apple — you should spit it right out. And you should not care how it looks — that spat out, masticated apple slice — after your teeth have attempted the munching of it. A non-crisp apple is an insult to your teeth and taste buds. Not that you shouldn’t savor a skillfully prepared apple pie, apple cobbler, or apple sauce. No, no. Love apple sauce, and the rest, but only if they meet or exceed the standard. Whose standard? Ah. If you’ve lived long enough to enjoy several (if not many) different apple pies / cobblers / sauces, then you — yes, you — should’ve developed your own standards by now. If not, keep sampling. Trust your taste buds, not your gut. Trust your gut only if it upsets you. But when you take a bite out of an apple,