Monday, August 29, 2016
I know what you're thinking:
'Life's great, I have lots of great things going for me, my relationships with people I care about are great, my career is great, I'm great at both chess and telling which fly caught on a spider web will be eaten first, I've got great lats, I drank a great latte recently, and when I let him my Latin mate Lettie let's me like leftie leaning lightning strike lesions on lascivious lions, I've got great gumption, the word 'great' is great, and I'm great at using it to lie about things being great when occasionally those things are only good, or possibly even so bad I just don't want to talk about them, yep, life's great, really great, except for one single thing - the fact that I'm pretty sure I have lungs - but how can I possibly know COMPLETELY for SURE that I have lungs?'
Well people, as usual I'm here to help.
Your current doubt is completely normal, as in fact it's actually impossible to know for SURE whether you have lungs or not, but there are numerous signs which can help you get as close as possible to figuring it out. And because I'm generous, sometimes even greatly generous, I'm going to share right now with you some signs to look out for that you do in fact have lungs:
- You can breath.
- You're currently a lesbian, or a gay man, or a heterosexual, possibly even a male or female or other, or even some kind of human.
- Or even some sort of mammal or possibly a reptile or bird, depending on whether you believe in science and what not.
- You've never had a heart and lung transplant where the surgeon put in the new heart but then got lazy when it came to the lungs and was all like 'just throw in a couple of Coke cans and let's hit the bar', which is fair enough, I mean who hasn't gotten lazy at work?
- You've also never had a surgeon successfully give you a new heart but then stick Pepsi cans in your body instead of lungs, laziness isn't brand specific people!
- You don't live underwater.
- Or if you do, you live in an underwater palace with great air-conditioning.
- Or you live underwater without any palace, but bizarrely you can't seem to stop sucking on that really long straw that's pointing upwards.
- Or you live underwater, without a palace or a straw, but before you went down there you made sure to fill an owl up with lots of air and now suck on his beak lots.
- When you smoke people say stuff to you like 'aren't you worried about your lungs?'
- You're not from some kind of weird planet where people have cellos instead of lungs - do we have any of those people here?
- Oh sure, deny you're one of those people if you damn well want to, but I'll catch you next time we run a marathon and you can't get up hills without your bow!
- By the way I can get you wedding gigs if you need money.
- Ha, that was a trap, you need VIOLIN lungs to get wedding gigs!
- Your name is Stephanie - in my experience most people named Stephanie have lungs.
- When you were a baby and cried a lot some dude went 'man that kids got some lungs'.
- When someone asks you 'do you have lungs' you answer 'yes'.
- You're not a liar.
- At least not when lungs are involved.
- Or you live underwater, without a palace or a straw, but before you went down there you made sure to get an owl to fill ITSELF up with air, and you were so impressed with its ability to follow directions you now breath by mouth kissing blow fish.
So how'd you do? Do you have lungs?
If so, congratulations, you can breathe easy now, ha ha, but seriously, it's hard being lungless, so congratulations.
If not, my commiserations, but worry not, I was serious before, if you have violins instead I can totally get you wedding gigs, or if it's Pepsi or Coke cans you can always sell them
to thirsty people at marathons.
Wow, happy endings for all. Except people with cellos for lungs. And blow fish. Poor guys get mouth kissed and then fed to underwater owls!
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
With action on my brilliant plan now officially begun in an official sense, things were beginning to look very fortunate for me, officially. Of course by fortunate I meant unfortunate, and by unfortunate I meant unfortunately for those who wanted me to be unlucky in luck, and by luck I meant fortune, and by unlucky I meant unfortunately, and in this case unfortunately in the fortunate sense, officially.
It gave me time to take stock. Something I didn't feel bad about at all, we were changing this restaurant to all Icelandic, and so there was no longer going to be any need for anything in the 'fresh produce', 'refrigeration' or 'petty cash' stock. If I didn't eat all that cash then it would just go to waste.
And as I sat down to eat it, I began to take stock, this time in a not very selfless way, but instead in an extremely selfless way, by taking stock of my own mind.
'I've got many things to be fortunate about' I stocked to myself. I stocked it so hard that I could feel it whip against the inside of my skull. 'But I've also got an equal amount of things to feel unfortunate about' I added to my thought stock, this time stocking it so hard that the whipping against the inside of my skull knocked me over, and caused me to cough up a printed zero from a one hundred dollar note. But was it the first zero or the second? I had no way of telling. And this made me sad. 'I need to take stock!' I screamed at my brain, and it needs to be BIG stock and I need to stock it NOW!' This last word, that is the word 'NOW' was stocked so BIG that it knocked me back to my feet, which made me light headed, which reminded me that my stomach was bleeding from my earlier fight - clearly fate wanted me to write a list of all my fortunate and unfortunate things, and write them in blood on the floor. The list came out as follows:
Fortunate: The guy I pay to thicken my baths with wood-chips has given me a fifty percent discount since I no longer have access to my bath.
Unfortunate: He now uses Pine wood, ewwww.
Fortunate: Not one pen has ever DEMAND I stab myself in the eye with it, it's usually a polite request at best.
Unfortunate: I'm too polite to ever turn down a polite request.
Fortunate: I'm the one that convinced FRESH air that it would be WAY sexier if it would at least TRY wearing the bandana I gave it for Christmas.
Unfortunate: FRESH air NOW seems to let just about ANYONE taste her. Hussy.
Fortunate: I'm the one who came up with the theory that if we painted the pyramids fluorescent orange they might finally reveal themselves to shoot lasers.
Unfortunate: The Egyptian government for some reason won't lend me the people who built the pyramids to carry me around all the time, so I still have to walk!
Fortunate: I'm the one who introduced the law making it illegal in some counties to not start every sentence with 'I'm the one'.
Unfortunate: That's made dobbing your friend Kev in for murders they didn't commit just for fun, way less funny.
Fortunate: Due to my best friend Kev being an amateur professional Botanist I've been lucky enough to wake up at various times surrounded by almost every variety of orchid.
Unfortunate: I'm almost deathly allergenic to orchids.
Fortunate: But I've got to hand it to Kev, he keeps trying to find one I'm not allergic to. He often even tries the very day after I've whipped him or played a funny joke with him in mind. That's the kind of give and take that makes our friendship work.
Unfortunate: I don't get the chance to whip him while I'm in the emergency room begging for another life saving anaphylactic shot.
Fortunate: He's often there mumbling 'Kev, if you're just going to drive him to the hospital why even damn bother' and when he mumbles he reminds me of a sick hyena, ha ha, you're not laughing now are you, you dicks!!!
Unfortunate: I miss the laughter.
Fortunate: Most of the times I've been on fire it's been my choice to be that way.
Unfortunate: I had a weird 'I wonder what my genitals would feel like on fire' phase of life in my thirties. And twenties. And from ages two to four. Although in my defense I didn't know the word 'genitals' for half that time. Surprisingly the second half.
Fortunate: I knew just how to inspire a foreman to get this job done NOW, and with BIG success.
Unfortunate: I was my own Forman.
Fortunate: I'm ace.
Unfortunate: Being ace doesn't make you a good foreman.
Fortunate: But I knew just how to develop the skill of being a great foreman. And I was going to have to remember this skill big and now.
Unfortunate: For some bizarre reason I was beginning to feel a tad light in the blood department, and my personal blood department is my body, and that was the exact body I needed to remember the skills of being a great foreman.
This was a potential hazard, I was going to have to react, and react HARD and IMMEDIATELY!
*The future* is near
*And by 'future' I mean the next bit of this story, which actually happened in the past.
*Speaking of the future I was once politely requested to stop licking an axe while sitting in a school yard, and that's why YOUR kids school doesn't have any warm burning fireplaces going at the moment (unless they're in Iceland and therefore burning whale bone). So I say make sure your kid knows what 'genital' means NOW, and in a BIG way, depending on the facts at hand, or else there may be a fire coming soon for your kid, and by 'soon' I mean in 'the future'*!
*Not that they'll light their genitals on fire, just that if they don't know that word they may end up dumb and forced to be an arson for a living.
Monday, August 8, 2016
I stumbled around the restaurant for a moment. Things were now moving at such an obviously outlandishly swift speed that I had to just jump into the wave and ride it. And this was a BIG wave, and it was swollen NOW, and it was obvious that it was swollen in an obvious way, because it was outlandishly BIG!
There just was not a long wait between events I was willing or capable of making. It was as if not one second had passed since the last thing I'd done. Which was good cause not one second HAD passed, and I like it when things seem like they seem because they are seemingly the same as they seem, where by 'seem' I mean 'are'.
I needed to do something FRESH, and I needed to make it NEW! And it had to be something very FRESH. And something extremely NEW! 'NEW and FRESH' I thought to myself, solidifying the situation, the goal and the necessary NEWNESS and FRESHNESS to myself, while simultaneously wasting time that could have instead been used to think of something else, possibly something FRESH to do, or even something to do achievable with NEWNESS.
'WE'RE GOING TO MAKE IT ALL ICELANDIC!' I suddenly screamed at the top of my lungs, towards my construction foreman, immediately putting things into action.
'Everything has to be Icelandic, from top to bottom, and left to right. Although based on my memory of world maps, mostly top and to the left. Then again I think Iceland is to the right of Britain, and Greenwich Mean Time is based there, making Britain literally the center of our time universe, so why the hell isn't Britain in the center of the map, are you trying to confuse us map designers? Because that makes you dicks!'
It was time for me to start a NEW trend and to make this restaurant sing in the way the manager had clearly wanted it to when he picked out those coasters shaped exactly like that beautiful yet little known Iceland island. And he wanted it to sing in a mostly non-singing way, because it's a restaurant, not a singer, and frankly if it did sing it probably wouldn't sing very well, I mean it's a restaurant, and restaurants are busy places, so they don't have time to do proper vocal warm ups.
The plan was simple - to make this restaurant Icelandic all I had to do was look at the elements which make a restaurant restauranty, in the restaurant sense, and then change the elements of the restaurant which were currently not Icelandic to make them Icelandic elements, and by 'elements' I meant 'restauranty'.
This was going to involve the following:
- Installing all Icelandic decor (lots of beautiful fire places burning crisply burning freshly cut whale bone).
- Icelandic tables (freshly cut whale tongue flopped over lost and startled sea-lions).
- Icelandic food (mostly a still swimming schools of live pickled-herring shooting out of a freshly cut whale mouth).
- Icelandic toilets, (which are freshly cut whale blow holes dipped in resin).
- Icelandic music (mostly the sound of freshly cut whale's screaming 'why do you have to freshly cut me, everything is frozen up here, I'll keep damn it!')
- Icelandic clientele (mostly blonde people, and whales sneaking in to mourn their freshly cut fallen family members, that get past security by wearing blonde wigs).
- Icelandic security (freshly cut whale gall bladders with signs stapled to them saying 'blonds only').
- An Icelandic complaints department (mostly filled with comments saying 'this wig is super itchy, got any balm?'
- A well stocked balm supply (made from freshly cut whale juice). And
- Icelandic staff (mostly immigrant whales that have escaped their homeland after their communities have seen a bizarre spout of unexplained fresh cuttings).
This plan was great. And having yelled at my foreman it was officially NOW in action, and this action was BIG!
To be cont*....
*still short for 'continued', you know to save time and space.
*Because things are moving too damn fast to come up with new ones of those, at least ones that really sing*. I now have time for nothing except the truth and getting to the point.
*Speaking of singing, I once met a great white shark that taught me a thing or two about how to do a proper vocal warm up to sing. According to him the key was opening your mouth really wide to let the sound out, he demonstrated and it was genius, he got his mouth so open it was almost scary. I even lost a chunk of my left kidney (he didn't bite it, it just got scared and ran away). I was so impressed that I couldn't wait to find out just how wide I could open my mouth, which resulted in me ding the following.
- I pride it open with my fingers.
- I hung from the roof with meat hooks jammed in the top of my jaw.
- I attached the top half of my jaw to a steam train to see if it would pull it open.
- I complained to the stream train company that the train never seemed to leave.
- I denounced the words 'but we're in a museum sir' as irrelevant and rude.
- I found it hard to keep my mouth open while I unleashed words of advice on the museum owner.
- So I jimmied my mouth open with three carefully selected and clearly brave green plastic army men.
- Then I needed dental surgery to have three of their guns removed from between my teeth.
- And the dentist fucked up and took out six teeth too.
- But thankfully he replaced them with freshly cut whale husk.
- Which made me so handsome that my run away chunk of left kidney came home. At least it seemed like it. Although he really hadn't been taking care of himself, he was now all red.
- Have you even heard of sunscreen you dick?