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Cult of the Dead Cow 328
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...presents... Pantslessness
by Mark Buda
01/01/1997-#328
__//////\ -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc- /\\\\\\__
Est. 1984 \\\\\\/ xXx BOW to the COW xXx \////// Est. 1984
__ _ _ __ _ _ __ _ _ __ _ _ __
|__heal_the_sick__raise_the_dead__cleanse_the_lepers__cast_out_demons__|
My pants deny my existence. I struggle with them daily, yet they insist
that they are the master. Who is to settle this dispute? Lying and wheezing
in my bed of potato and vinegar, I call for the princes of the boudoir, but
they heed me not. I fret, and in fretting, I sprain a whim. Damn. I must
go, and leave my pants behind. I spit on them as I leave, but they are not
ashamed.
I stroll down the avenue, aware that in my pantslessness I am the focus
of attention. I am secretly elated, but at the same time, I am worried. I
do not have a spaniel, either, yet I do not experience the joy of being
without one. I collapse in the street, crying bitter tears at the emotions I
can only deduce, for I am too numb to experience them. I am wracked by
despair as I realize I have been feeling the rapture of kazoolessness my
entire life, and yet it has not moved me.
As I lie sprawled in the street, passersby stop to taunt me and throw me
gnarled twigs.
I catch and eat them, for I deserve no better.
And as I crunch on my gritty repast, I feel a prod in a part of my body
that only one creature dares to touch. Could it be - it is! My pants! They
have come to rescue me!
No, it is only a squirrel.
When, at last, I return home, I find that my pants have locked me out
and have taken my wives for their own, and are redecorating the palace. I
have only myself to blame.
http://www.clark.net/pub/hermit/
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\__/ ) / Copyright (c) 1997 cDc communications and the author. \ ) \)(/
(_/ Award-winning CULT OF THE DEAD COW is a trademark of oooO
cDc communications, PO Box 53011, Lubbock, TX, 79453, USA. _
oooO All rights reserved. Edited by Swamp Ratte'. __ ( \
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\_) "THE COW WALKS AMONGST US" Oooo
