I Love My Space Monkey
Yesterday morning I woke up with a sick stomach, and though I was not in danger of barfing (not That sick) the whole thing made me very uneasy. This is because I almost Never get a stomach illness; all my illnesses are localized in my throat and/or sinuses, so I don't know what to Do with a sick stomach. What I did for most of the day was lay around, in bed or on the couch, reading. I was reading (finished it last night) A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius (YES, I'm a little late on that book--it's not important to me to read books when they're first published), and I mostly enjoyed it a lot. Some of it I had to skim, because it got annoying (mainly the flights of fancy--too many damn words), but all in all I thought it was very good.
Our friend, Miles, and his wife, Lexi (who we had not previously met) were in town for a wedding this weekend, and they had planned to swing by the house on Saturday afternoon, except the hurricane put the kibosh on that. They were able to come over for about half an hour yesterday morning, on their way out of town, and that was fun. First of all, Lexi is terrific; we really liked her. Secondly, I was able to show off my bed head to them, as it was early enough that I hadn't yet bothered to shower. We exchanged gifts--it was very ambassadorial. We gave them ho-made aquavit, ho-made brownies (the good kind), ho-made sugar scrub, and a ho-made t-shirt. We are the Waltons. They gave us three bizarre Japanese cups with lids, some incense, a camouflage bandana for Boy, and a child's book that Miles had altered with a black pen, which changed it from a boring, sweet story to a dark, vaguely menacing one. I now present to you the story, as altered by Miles:
I Love My Powerful Kitten Who Has Powers and Money
I love my kitten because...she has soft fur that is nice to stroke, also she lays eggs made of kryptonite. Kitten sees the future. Both the senate and the house roll on the countries she tells them to. Superman is powerless to stop her. [here the kitten has a talk bubble that says "Destroy Bhutan!", and the house and senate are representatively drawn in, saying, "We will! Destroy Bhutan! You are Sol Supe!" --it should be noted that I don't know what that last thing means. The story continues:] She drinks too much and has to shake this habit before she drops ded. I mean dead. Drinking effects your spelling. I love my kitten. She faces her enemies in such a furious and evil way [the kitten is augmented here with an ammo belt and either a machine gun or a nightstick--can't tell. Kitten has a talk bubble that says, "Check out my evil, yo"] Kitten climbs up my jeans like a vampire monkey. Then she sits upon my lap and sinks her undead teeth into my hand. [picture of headless person with cat on lap is altered so cat has fangs and person is saying "Aiee! I never should have trusted someone who fears daylight" Kitten is saying "Mwahhahaha"] Kitten looks in the mountains of Pakistan for Osama bin Laden. She plays games. She jumps sideways. Then she pounces on a paper bag. She is still more effective than the CIA. [picture of kitten and paper bag, but paper bag looks like mountains, there is a sign that says "Welcome to Tora Bora" and a drawing of Osama popping out from behind the "mountains", saying "Death to all infidels!"] I love my kitten because....she has such a loud rumbling purr that seems too big for her. Because it's actually coming from a space rocket she rides around on. [kitten has rocket drawn under her and is saying "Thanks MTV! You pimped my ride!" Little man in rocket says "Please don't send me back to Krypton!"] I love my kitten most of all because...she has a TON of money hidden in the yard somewhere. [girl cuddles bling-sporting kitten and says, "Tell me where the cash is". Kitten says "no".] The End. On back, Titles in this series: I love my.....Rabbit, Puppy, Kitten, Duckling, Space Monkey, Sugar Daddy.
The book is the dog's bollocks, and truly I think Miles could make a million dollars with this book-altering thing. All he'd have to do is write a saccharine children's story and then alter it like he altered the book we got, with cross-outs, write ins, and ridiculous drawings. I think the ultimate outlet for this kind of thing would be Urban Outfitters, where the blood of irony flows fast and shallow, and teenagers with cash will buy anything. Miles--hurry up before someone else takes your idea! That I have posted here for others to see! So that you will be motivated to do something with it quickly! I am a good friend.
In my limited research about brown recluses, I read that they like to nest in clothing that has not been worn for awhile, and that sort of makes sense and sort of doesn't. Because unless brown recluses hold clothing stakeouts, how are they going to know what's been worn recently and what hasn't? I'm now shaking out just about everything before I put it on, in case some brown recluse didn't do his homework but has decided to live in there anyway. It could happen!
A gross thing happened yesterday, but I wish I had it on camera so I could see/hear it over and over again--I don't know why. This will no doubt confirm my mental instability for you, but remember how I had those blood blisters under my big toenails? Well, the blood is still there (it is now dried, as far as I can tell), and I was talking to Francisco about maybe having him drill through my toenails with the Dremel, but I was going to give it another week or so and see if any progress had been made with the blood. That was Saturday. Yesterday I was doing some toenail maintenence (cleaning them, post-clipping) when my right toenail pulled up and away from the blood, so now it looks much lighter (basically there is now air between my toenail and the bloody skin). The best thing about this was the noise it made. Kind of a quiet ripping noise--ssssssssnick. It didn't hurt at all, which is why I immediately tried to make the other toenail do the same thing, but alas--I think that one needs to grow a little more. I am going to see if I soak the right foot in water, whether that will make the blood wash out, or what. Life is one experiment after another, right? Sorry to gross people out, but really, I would love to hear that sssssssnick noise again; it was kind of cool.
Saturday afternoon I went to a hardware store to look for Markal Paintstiks, but they had already closed, so I went to Lowe's and they didn't have them. I then drove to Durham to look for the freight train yard, and I couldn't find it! I drove around and around, but to no avail. How will I photograph (and/or create, theoretically) train graffiti if I can't find the damn train yard?? I'm a failure before I even start. Too much road construction, for one thing--I got all turned around. I will try again another time.
I think this is all I have to report today, except I wish I'd called in sick, because my stomach is still a little iffy, and the stress I'm feeling from various things at work today is not helping. I'm getting caught up, but not fast enough, and today is apparently a big phone day. I hate everyone--present company excluded.
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