And I’m trying to remember what the heck happened that I should feelthe way I feel. Cripes, I don’t remember any tracks; I don’t remember anywhistles; I don’t remember any bells; I don’t remember any swinging lanterns,any crossing signals; so, what the fock.
What I do remember is parking my butt on a stool smack-dab barside overby the Uptowner tavern/charm school. I remember Little Jimmy Iodine coming inafter screening the 2012 and calling it one big steaming turd-pile onaccount of how could a big-time disaster movie forget to include the all-timedisaster fantasy of Sarah focking Palin getting elected president?
And then I remember somebody asking this question: “If a man sayssomething in the middle of the woods and no woman hears him, is he stillwrong?”which reminded me of a little story:
So these twoolder ladies were having their breakfast at Webb’s one morning. Norma noticessomething odd about Mabel’s ear and says, “Mabel, do you know you've got asuppository sticking out of your left ear?" Mabel says, “What?” So Normarepeats the question: “Mabel, do youknow you've got a suppository sticking out of your left ear?" Mabelsays, "I have a suppository in my ear?" She pulls it out, stares atit and says, “Good heavens, Norma, I'm glad you noticed this thing. It gives mea gosh darn good idea where to find my hearing aid." Ba-ding!
I forget which one of us knobs asked the question“If a man sayssomething in the middle of the woods …” blah-blah-blahbut I do remember then aheated debate that nearly came to rationality broke out. Herbie was the mostconcise of the group: “Listen you focksticks, whatever it is that this fockingguy in the woods might say, you canbet your buck two-eighty that you’ll never hear him say, ‘Let’s watch Oprah.’You’ll never him say, ‘Yeah, I was hoping my mother-in-law could’ve stayed overlonger.’ And you’ll never hear him say, ‘Hon, do you think this condom makes melook fat?’”
I think I remember that I pretty much stayed out of thediscussionmetaphysics was never my strong suit. I’m more of a quantummechanics guy who likes to wonder about all the invisible stuff in the universewe haven’t discovered yet, stuff that had it been specifically mentioned in theBible could definitely be of use in this day and age.
Yeah yeah, that goddamn Bible. Hey, I like a story about casting stonesat whores or sacrificing barnyard animals as much as the next guy, but a littleLordly help with quantum electrodynamics would’ve been niceespecially the partthat offers up the perhaps dire possibility that the universe we seem to bepart of right now could disappear with all of us in it in a split second and wewouldn’t even know it ’cause some kind of unseen vacuums could flip around in ablink of the eye, focking-A.
This discussion meandered a tad, and then Julius proposed a toast tothe poet Dylan Thomas, who died 46 years ago the other day, and who sometimesaid: An alcoholic is someone you don't like who drinks as muchas you do.
Then Ray took the bait and became Captain Cat, the old blind seacaptain from the poet’s great work, Under Milk Wood, who told us thefollowing story:
An old retired sailor puts on his old retired uniform and heads for the docks once more, for old time’s sake. Heengages a prostitute and takes her up to a room.
He's soon going at it aswell as he can for a guy his age, but needing some reassurance, he asks, “Howam I doing?" The prostitute replies, “Old sailor, you're doing about threeknots."
“Three knots?" he asks. “What's that supposed to mean?” She says,“You'reknot hard, you're knot in, and you're knot getting your moneyback.” Ba-ding-ding-ding!
I remember Ernie saying the Big Bang has to be the granddaddy ofdisaster explosionsnow nearly 14 billion years since, and where’s the upside?And I remember saying “fock if I know,” ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told youso.
