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Damned Fucking Shit Issue 48
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Damned Fucking Shit! | | Title: Ruminations and Tangents
Issue #48 | : Date: 10/22/94
Editor: Access Denied | . By: Wyvern
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Ruminations and Tangents
It was dark. I opened my eyes. It was still dark. I
pulled the pillow off my face. It was a little brighter,
but it was still dark. I pulled the blankets off of my
face, and it was blindingly bright. I dove under the
covers again.
An undeterminable amount of time later I yawned,
turned over in my sleep and crawled back out from under
the covers. The light was just as intense, but this time
I had a purpose. I had my sights set on a goal, and I was
going to achieve. When nature calls, it is best to heed
the invitation.
Fifteen minutes later I stumbled out of my room
dressed in grungy jeans and an old T-shirt that said "C is
better". Cornflakes in the bowl...so...eat. I wandered
out to the porch and grabbed my mail. Wow, I may have
already been on the waiting list for the opportunity to be
notified that I may have already won the chance to
participate in the third pre-runner-up bonus round, if I
buy six years of "Orchid World". And, "Open immediately!
Important information enclosed!" written on some
forth-class mail.
Back in the house sitting on the couch, trying to
think of a valid excuse for not going to work today.
Except... work? I have a job? I'm only... how old am I?
Wait... driver's license. I have one here. Let's see...
Seth Applegate, age 25, brown hair, blue eyes. Yup, as I
look in the mirror, that's me. Wow, I am out of it. I
gotta think about this.
Called work. Told them I was sick. Told me I have
been sick forty times this year, and that was in the last
week. Told them I was sick. Told me I was fired. Oh
well...
I'm lying on my back, in the big tree in my back yard.
It's too nice out today to have a job. Oh, wait, I don't
have one. Oh well, it's still nice out. The breeze is
gently blowing, and its warm enough to be comfortable in a
T-shirt, but not hot enough to sweat. The sun is shining
bright and beautiful, and the green leaves shade me and
bathe everything in a calm glow. I think that I might...
<yawn>.
Floating, softly, gently, freeing the imagination to
soar. A beach, and sea gulls. I lay there, and they
waddle over to chat. After some scintillating
conversation about wingspan and airspeed/weight ratios,
they told me that they had to go to a tea party the herons
down the road were hosting. I wave, they wave, they're
gone. The sand is trickling down a massive hourglass,
with scythes etched into the glass. I whirlpool down with
the beach, and now I'm on a dune of ruddy colored clay. I
drive around for a while, until I come to the nearest
McDonalds. Ronald is there, wiping off the tables with
spray that is more effective than the leading brands. I
wave, he waves. I walk up to the counter, and Death says
hi back.
"What'll it be?", he intones. Without waiting for an
answer, he hands me a McWalrus and a side of Humus.
Death, Humus-side, hehe. That's the kind of guy he is. I
sit down to eat, and a police officer approaches.
"I'm sorry sir, but you were eating way too fast for
this lane. I'm going to have to take you down to
headquarters."
"That's fine, I live there.", I say. We swim most of
the way, and we're met by shore by two men rowing a dock.
They help us on, and we run to shore. The cop looks
mystified, and starts to quack. I tell him that he in a
penguin dreaming he is a man, and not the other way
around. He looks immensely relieved, and waddles off to
find some fish.
I'm all alone, and I hail a cab. The driver asks how
much money I have, I tell him, and he tells me that he
will take me fifteen miles. I tell him that is all I
needed to know. I ask him where he wants to go. He says
Jeff City, so I drop him on Belteguse 7 and tell him to
hitch the rest of the way. He says fine, and hops off
with a merry ribbit. I beam myself into the zoo, and walk
until I get to my apartment. As I ease myself in, I think
of how nice it is that now, instead of us having to go to
the zoo, the zoo parades past me. Too bad I can't get any
privacy.
I reach out and grab the glass, and start molding it
into a shape that is vaguely familiar. A shape in a tree.
But the train will be coming any minute, I can't afford to
miss it, and I let it go. As my transport eases into
sub-sonic velocity, I wonder where it is I'm going, and
where I'm leaving from. Scotland, I tell myself, for all
three questions. But no time for that now, It is time for
the daily race.
I place my bet, on pterodactyl number 6x+17y, a sure
winner if it comes in third. It does, it always does, and
I win. As usual? Have I been here before?
I punch though the air in a one piece spandex racing
suit, just me and my skis against the... tree? Alpine
skiing takes on an entirely new meaning as I land knee
first in a jumble of green. The cactus disentangling
itself from my skis, muttering something about suing for
damages. Death motors on by, waving his elbow as he
passes. The cactus thins, becomes lighter both in texture
and color, and I am aware of an unpleasant sensation in my
lower back.
The ground has somehow pulled me down, and I am gazing
at my previous perch up in the tree. I was...there. Now
I am...here. Hmm. I pick myself up and return to my
room. There is a half eaten McSandwich, with some reddish
sand on top laying on my bed. Hmm...
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