"YESTERDAY"

"Why, 'yes,' the conflicting terminology is there for a reason." Walking, puking, fish moticianing, musical references, sarcasm, offensiveness, somewhat-worldly wonderment and all. Learn to do one of two things: "Accept or pass by." You're the nut reading this shit. I'm the nut writing it. The whole rationale here is to accept it at face value or reap the consequences. Good, bad or indifferent. Your choice, Grasshopper. You can "keep the coin" when you finally snatch it from this keyboard.

Today's lesson/words of advice for young people: "Never get too familiar with strangers. They'll turn on you when you least expect it. A 'courtesy' may turn into a request which, in turn, becomes a demand or robbery." Yea, I'm "sort of" borrowing from Burroughs here. Bill doesn't give two shits. He'd probably welcome the wretched refuse that would: Pick up his money from a cafe' table, to be shot on the sidewalk at his leisure, later.

Yesterday, I was in a Supermarket. The guy ahead of me saw that I only had two items and was going to let me "check out ahead of him." I demurred, feigning "patience." My next mistake was to attempt to engage him in a few humorous pleasantries. He fell silent and surly. I ended our little te'-a'-te' with: "I've run out of material. Excuse me, I mistook you for a human being." Nary a giggle or guffaw to be had in the room. (I know you're out there. I can hear you breathing) Fuck it. I had another pig and chicken show to attend at one of the many government agencies I have monotonous, monochrome dealings with down the block. Time was a'wastin' and the daylight was a'burnin'. Mr. Courtesy obviously had sawdust between his ears anyway... Or: "Talking To Strangers" is a horrible mistake in the first place. Take y'er pick.

To continue the "mistake du jour" theme: I next attempted to engage someone in passing conversation on a city bus. No dice there, either. I was starting to get the idea. The World Was Having A Bad Day and, I just happened to be in the way. In such situations, I revert to becoming "The Walkman Guy" on the bus. Haven't graduated to the iPod thingy yet. Nobody wants to rob you for your Sony Sports Walkman w/Super Bass, anyway. I also have a zillion cassette tapes.

Things soon got better... I decided to head for one of my favorite thrift stores with a dollar and change in my pocket. Some of my best scores in such places have happened in similar circumstances. As I'm cruising through the aisles, I hear my name being spoken. I turn around to find one of my old time friends from down the highway, a little town I used to live in, eyeballing me. "Hey! Pickle Head! (not his real name, of course) What? You up visiting The Little Woman?" P.H. replies: "Yep. That and stalking your mangy ass in the local thrift stores." I'm well known for my penchant of such establishments. Indeed, he was up from Stinky Fishville to visit his girlfriend. Our pleasant and as-per-usual too short conversation happened and I got to walk home with a smile on my face. See? "Walking." I told you it was going to happen. Pickle goes his way and I go mine. "FRESH YARNS FOR EVERYONE! I'm buying." Ring the Skipper's Bell and pass the antibiotics.

At the thrift store, for the enormous sum of $0.94 cents, with Senior Discount applied, was: A "Sun Valley, Idaho, Ski Resort employee baseball cap." In perfect shape, already sized for my average-sized melon. "Safety First!" and "Cultivating Success From The Ground Up! (I feel like I'm listening to a motivational speech while wearing it already) emblazoned upon the cap's side boards. Sun Valley logo on the front. Classic, if you've ever worked around a ski resort or been a ski bum, both of which, I have done, you'd dig it too. And, I, really dig baseball caps, period.

Long story short: I "collect stuff." Anything that blows my skirt up. My home is a Tiny Museum. I'm quite proud of it, in fact. Its' contents are the product of many years of thrift store trolling and sinking the hook at all the right times. Some of it is quite valuable. Some of it is worthless, tacky, kitsch. Most of only means something to me and noone else. Some of it is truly: "Oddball Odd." "Perfecto! Canasta!"

"'Tish, that's French," says Gomez as he kisses his way toward her Morticia-esque face. I like somewhat scary women. When they're smiling.

Yesterday. Seems like it was last week already. And that, Dear Reader, is The Absolute Truth About "Relativity." The rest of Einstein's Theory is pure hypothetical horse patoot. "The older you get, the faster time passes." Fess up. When you were 12, you couldn't wait to be a: "real teenager and turn 13." Now you're saying: "Fuck that shit, I want to be 30 again." Hail Mary all you want. It ain't gonna' happen. And, as an added benefit: You're gonna' start noticing that "Old Person Smell" around yourself. Then: (the really fun part) Rest Home (if you're lucky or whatever that is) and, as a consolation prize: DIAPERS all over again. Trust me, it does get worse. I'll fill you in as time accelerates. If you're already Old, you don't give a shit and wonder what's for dinner and on T.V. tonight. The Price Is Totally Fucked Up? Hell yes! What channel is it on?

Today's wonderful musical suggestions, or: "What I'm Listening To:"

http://youtu.be/Sug4hC3Ysb0   http://youtu.be/1I9jEPNvq6g  http://youtu.be/pVcN3BjYJ1Q

Auf Wiedersehen, Damen und Herren. So long and thanks for all the (dead) fish!

R.I.P. Douglas Adams.

I forgot to mention that along with dead fish, there will be some humans that are also dead mentioned throughout these pages. Not that I have any sort of macabre fascination about death or anything. Trust me, it'll come soon enough for everybody.

-Doc