Some say siesta time is a nothing time but really it’s a something time even if I can’t defend it to a world with blinders on that worships slave labor. Slave drivers will have the hottest spots in hell. So will the slaves. But if one never recharges, one ceases to labor all together.
Not that I can get any rest around here.
Larry comes strutting down the sidewalk like an MTV rapper who just bought his first Rolls-Royce, thinking he’s reached the end of the proverbial rainbow. That’s the problem with Larry: he always reaching the end of the rainbow only to find it’s just another illusion. He’s one of those people who looks for answers solely outside of himself. It makes for a predictable ending.
"Hey Harry, look what I got!" Well, fuck, he’s not falling for my fake sleeping routine – or rather he probably just doesn’t give a shit if he wakes me up or not. He’s carrying a five gallon water container with two hoses sticking out of either side. To paraphrase Paul Newman in Butch Cassidy, "I don’t know what he’s selling but I know I don’t want any". I let out an internal sigh and lower my hat in vain hopes of discouraging the scourge.
"Check it out, Harry! I finally did it!" I thought to myself: I'm not having this conversation. "Know what it is? It’s a fart catcher!" God bless my instincts. "I was watching Oprah and the guy on there says the best thing to do in this down economy is start your own business.” There’s only about a thousand holes in the last sentence needing comment. The gods are testing me. “He said inventing something no one else had can make you rich!"
Some things are so absurd they require no comment, sort of like the idea of conservative morality. So no way was I going to be lured into any of his pitfalls, like asking why anyone would want a fart catcher and what the hell was he going to do with them anyway. Set them free back into the wild? Then, as if reading my mind, my neo-nemesis explained.
"It’s going to be just like Ghostbusters. I get called in, contain the smelly ol' farts and then I deposit them into a compression chamber somewhere. Right now I’m just going to store them in a storage unit I think, till I get enough money for sumpthin' better." Next I feel coming the inevitable loaded question: "So whatcha think?"
My eyes barely flicker. "Cool. Let me know when you make your first million."
Suspenseful silence on the other end. Did he actually detect my sarcasm? Is he going to whine about his obviously false hopes even though I know it's the only thing keeping him going? Believe me, that's a nightmare I know and live. I just don't want to hear his shit.
"You don't believe me, do you?"
Fucker. Tightening the noose on me, is ya? "Sure, I believe ya. Why wouldn't I?" Whew, managed to get the ball back in his court.
"OK, here!" I heard his petulant voice stomp. And he shoved that stupid water container in my face and God knows what was in it but it smelled like shit warmed over along with a healthy dose of rotten eggs. That got my attention. But just as I was reaching out to wring his chubby little neck, he tore out down the street squealing and laughing, making me wonder if he was putting me on all along.
Quickly, I did a search over my entire body but I didn't find a note attached saying "Fuck with me." So I grasped for rest otra vez.
Then my guilt monster stopped by. The fucker is never far. But I got thinking back to the U.S. Open and Tiger Woods flame out in the final round. So I asked my guilt monster what Tiger Woods' guilt monster was telling him. Well, it gets this big ol' shit eating grin on its face because the job of Tiger’s guilt monster is an especially delicious one.
After the beast got off its cell, I got the word: "It says this to him: 'What kind of monster are you to win a major golf event after destroying your family, your reputation and your morals? Don’t you care about anything? Only a sorry fucker like you would win!'"
I felt a little bit better after hearing that seeing that I’m not only one thusly tortured. But I also saw how pointless it was for Tiger to lose – as if they would make up for anything! Then I went over and kicked my guilt monster right in the nuts - which felt damn good!
Gee, hope it's not mad.
What's weird is when you hear stuff when you're half in a dream state...
First two guys pass by.
"So, did she do it?"
"Yes, I got her to swallow all my lies!"
"Awesome! Women are so dumb! I love it!"
Then two women come along and I guess they were with them.
"So, did you do it?"
"Yes, I got him to believe I believe all his lies!"
"Awesome! Men are so dumb! I love it!"
Earlier in the day I'd seen part of Sarah Silverman's act on TV and she says both "um" and "Jew" a lot but I kept looking at her interesting face and now I hear these strangers talking, sliding into my head making me wonder if I would believe Sarah Silverman's lies if I got to fuck her and I was really pissed when I had to answer yes so I wrote down on my mental To Do list for the eighty millionth time to get my shit together because if I don't someday I'm going to look just like those idiots I despise that I'm no better than. Damn, I want to be better than somebody!
Or at least a tie...
They say when you're young and dumb you're liberal and when you get older you're smart and conservative. People say rubbish like that hoping God will realize just what a great soul they are. But to me, that just makes them more of an asshole. So you get these old fuckers going on moral rampages trying to get everyone to clean up their act and that sounds good and all but the reality is they only do it because they have no intention of cleaning up their own. I wish they'd all die.
And the women are the worst because society gives them carte blanche on demonizing anything they want. Living in Dallas, there ain't no shortage of old conservative women and I was not to be spared when these two "keepers of morality" inflicted their bitterness upon the world.
"I don't want anyone thinking I'm racist but I just don't think a black man can be the President because they don't have the proper background and history."
"Yes, I'm very afraid too. It's not their fault, of course. One can't help one's breeding but facts are facts."
"But if you say one word of criticism it's all 'Racist this!' and 'Racist that!' and no one wants to hear the truth."
"Amen to that! We've lost our way in this country and we've got to get it back on track."
"It all started when they took prayer out of school. Morals went right out the window! Did you call the police on the woman sunning herself yet?"
"Yes, parading around in that thong. I saw some boys peeking through the fence being corrupted by her body. She can't walk around like that when families live in the neighborhood. It's just not decent! That woman is sick."
"You told me she was a liberal artist so that explains it all. It’s this liberal world we live in! You remember our visit to the Kimbell museum don’t you?"
"I'll never forget it! Displaying pornography like it was art! And small children running through there! Disgraceful!"
"And they have the nerve to call themselves ‘family friendly’. That’s not something I want my grandchildren to see! It would rape their morals, it would."
"Children are not safe nowadays. Everything is so permissible! I’m lucky my Johnny turned out OK. He just returned from Afghanistan and he’s shooting all the neighborhood pets but that’s just a phase he’s going through and we’re all doing our best to pretend he’s OK."
"That’s how children turn out when raised by a good family. I’ve always been proud of your boy and the fine killing machine he has become in order to keep us safe. Sometimes I think war is the only thing we have left to keep us moral."
"Amen to that! But I’ll sure be glad once we get all the bad people and liberals killed so we can finally relax. There’s just too many people asking too many questions running around."
"Kill them all. That’s the only thing they understand."