Thirty - Oversized under shaped

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? 

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