Talking to myself . . .

[xSilverPhinx]

Mags.

[Biggus Dickus]

Enjoyed your post quite a bit Mags about the young one from Argentina, nicely done. Thank you for posting...

[Magdalena]

I'm glad you guys liked it. 
...You guys didn't think that I actually, well, you know...did you? 
Those are the actual words people use to describe the way a wine looks and tastes. One can easily get confused about what they're talking about. 

[Biggus Dickus]

I'm glad you guys liked it. 
...You guys didn't think that I actually, well, you know...did you? 
Those are the actual words people use to describe the way a wine looks and tastes. One can easily get confused about what they're talking about. 

We got it, "Pinot Moir"!

[xSilverPhinx]

I'm glad you guys liked it. 
...You guys didn't think that I actually, well, you know...did you? 
Those are the actual words people use to describe the way a wine looks and tastes. One can easily get confused about what they're talking about. 

We got it, "Pinot Moir"!

[Arturo]

>Dad puts room up for rent
>Get room mate
>Dad cancels room for rent so he can move back in
>Room mate turns out to be a scam
>Dad puts room back up for rent anyway

If I wasn't sedated by meds I'd probably say something.

[Biggus Dickus]

Drexel as usual was late, but of course he was always late, and what irked us the most about it is the fact he didn't seem to give a shit in the least that he was always late. In fact the more we bitched about his lateness, the more it appeared to drive him to arrive even later the next time we were planning on getting together.

So we normally held our tongues and gave each other side glances when he would arrive, greeting his perfunctory hello with simply a grunt or nod of the head.

Tonight was different. Tonight we decided to wait no longer. You have to understand though, Drexel was a mess, always rumpled, hurried, a step or two back from where he should be, as if he was paused at some earlier recorded point in his life and simply couldn't find it in himself to fast-forward to the present.

Even in conversations he would be a sentence or thought behind everyone else, oftentimes repeating or requesting clarification on a point already made, disrupting the flow of words and thought to the point you felt as if you were trying to read from a book while the pages flapped in the wind.

'Lisabeth told me one night while she was really drunk and lonely, she made the mistake of having sex with him. I asked her how he was and she told me he seemed to approach sex the same way he did everything else, one or two thrusts behind. At one point she rolled off the top of him her own needs met, and while she was getting dressed he was still at it on the bed, finally finishing himself off, all the while telling her to wait for him, but she left, not wanting to spend the night there in the gloom.

So tonight we packed everything up, cleaned out all of the rooms and left forever...taking his share of the money, everything; his clothes, his albums, even his turtle and that fucking smelly-ass aquarium of his.

We heard later that when he finally arrived and found this world we had created gone, wiped completely and irrevocably clean he simply sat down and cried. I imagine it was not the loss he crying about, but rather the guilt he finally was able to feel, that part of his life, the part that had been on pause finally caught up to him, and he saw it played out in all of it's retched completeness.

He tried to hang himself about a week later in some dive motel on the strip, not far from where we first met, but apparently the pipe he tied his hang-knot to broke. He was found barely alive the next morning and taken to the hospital.

After getting discharged from the hospital several days later he was hit by a truck while crossing the street, and died almost instantly.

Bystanders said it looked like an accident, but I doubt it.

We often talked about taking him out ourselves, one time even coming so close as to drawing straws to see who would do it, but that wouldn't have been right. He needed to do it himself, he was the one responsible for all of it, the entire mess, for not only his guilt, but ours, especially ours.

We set the turtle free sometime later, as it was a pain to care for, anyway turtles don't belong in aquariums. We found a small pond back beyond the hospital grounds were 'Lisbeth was being treated. There were other turtles sunning themselves on logs as we approached the shore of the creek. When we set the turtle down on the sand it immediately craned it's neck forward, and then took off toward the water.

I half expected it to turn around, pause and take one last look at us, but it simply disappeared into the muck and water.

[Icarus]

Bruno is showing some signs of talent for invention. ( I hope that last bit was invention)  We may very well have a  burgeoning Steven King type fiction writer in our midst. Go for it Father Bruno. Wheels ain't everything you know. **







**For those who do not know, Bruno is responsible for many of the wheels on new automobiles out of the Detroit area and beyond. 

[Biggus Dickus]

Bruno is showing some signs of talent for invention. ( I hope that last bit was invention)  We may very well have a  burgeoning Steven King type fiction writer in our midst. Go for it Father Bruno. Wheels ain't everything you know. **







**For those who do not know, Bruno is responsible for many of the wheels on new automobiles out of the Detroit area and beyond. 

Appreciate the sentiment Icarus, and also kind of you to remember what I do for a living. Yes, the blurb I posted is a complete invention; well accept for the names Drexel and 'Lisbeth, and the description of the turtle release, that part was true.

[Recusant]

On the bleak side, but very evocative. I like it. 

[xSilverPhinx]

So... the last hours are slipping away and soon the weekend will end.

[Biggus Dickus]

Earlier this afternoon I used a restroom in our office building, normally I use the one on our floor, but I was on my way down to check the mail so I stopped and used one located on one of the two main floors of the building.

The stall door was slightly open so I assumed it was empty, but the person using it hadn't either bothered or maybe notice the door wasn't locked, their was a gentlemen sitting on the toilet, his pants, underwear down completely to the floor, eating a bag of chips.

Not a small bag either, but a mid-sized one.

I was at first completely embarrassed by my accidental intrusion as one is apt to be in these situations, but the sight of the potato chip bag, along with this guy eating while sitting in a public restroom stopped me dead in my tracks and I just stood there for what seem like a minute staring at him before I remembered my place and quickly backed out the stall while mumbling an apology.

I didn't even bother at that point to go into another stall, I simply went over to the wash-basin, quickly washed my hands and left.

This is beyond weird and strange, and of course exceedingly gross and disgusting, but I can't shake the image from my head, and I'm been thinking of this guy all afternoon while at my desk.

I want to ask him why, and more importantly how he could eat while sitting on a toilet, especially a public toilet.

Seriously wish I could overwrite this image in my head, it's simply so fucking wrong.

[xSilverPhinx]

OMG that is so wrong on so many levels!

[Dave]

Earlier this afternoon I used a restroom in our office building, normally I use the one on our floor, but I was on my way down to check the mail so I stopped and used one located on one of the two main floors of the building.

The stall door was slightly open so I assumed it was empty, but the person using it hadn't either bothered or maybe notice the door wasn't locked, their was a gentlemen sitting on the toilet, his pants, underwear down completely to the floor, eating a bag of chips.

Not a small bag either, but a mid-sized one.

I was at first completely embarrassed by my accidental intrusion as one is apt to be in these situations, but the sight of the potato chip bag, along with this guy eating while sitting in a public restroom stopped me dead in my tracks and I just stood there for what seem like a minute staring at him before I remembered my place and quickly backed out the stall while mumbling an apology.

I didn't even bother at that point to go into another stall, I simply went over to the wash-basin, quickly washed my hands and left.

This is beyond weird and strange, and of course exceedingly gross and disgusting, but I can't shake the image from my head, and I'm been thinking of this guy all afternoon while at my desk.

I want to ask him why, and more importantly how he could eat while sitting on a toilet, especially a public toilet.

Seriously wish I could overwrite this image in my head, it's simply so fucking wrong.

That so sounds like a scene from one of the surealist films that were popular in the back street arts cinemas in Cambridge in the early 60s! Though he would have to have been stuffing the chips into his cake-hole as if life depended on it. I am sure the Dada-ists and other produced similar stuff long before. Have not followed that sort of genre for many fifty years.

Seemed so decadent sitting in that really grimy flea-pit of a place, drinking wine or beer and watching weird movies! 

[Recusant]

There might be a good explanation for it. There's a rush project on, and he doesn't really have time for lunch. Nature called, though, so he thought he'd get two things taken care of in the limited time available. As long as precautions are taken, no harm done. In fact, it makes a sort of sense not to lock the stall door in this instance, because that would involve touching a surface that is very likely contaminated.