Almost there...

I'm still working on the project I mentioned. I was just sort of excited about it and so I threw that post up there as a way to geek out about something I was doing. Just needed a second to go 'holy shit!' I think it's going to turn out pretty damned good and it'll be done soon. But in the meantime, here's something I wrote last night as a way to deal with the people I meet in my adopted city. Let's calllllll ittttt uhhhhmmmmmmmmm Taste? Sure, why not. If you've got anything better, throw it at me and I'll rename.

And the "Andy and Poop" as the lone readers was just a little joke. I'm really happy people are reading and I hope that you're enjoying my little fictional attempts at fiction. So, here's another brief monologue type thing which, until you rename it, will be known as "Taste."


Taste


Look at this guy, Alabethsia. How perfectly suburban. I think he’s actually wearing J. Crew. Can you believe that? I don’t know who let him out of the house looking that way. No style. No style. How could someone live like that? Spending your whole day in beige and khaki. Yes I did wear khakis last week, but I was being ironic. But this guy, he looks like he got beat up by L.L. Bean. Good God.

In Africa, a man studies his feet, and wonders how they got to be so sore. He’d barely walked all afternoon. He thinks maybe it’s time to continue his walk, but then, the day is so sunny and warm. Maybe just another moment here. What a nice day.

Oh, oh, shit, don’t look don’t look, but it’s Amasia from the knitting circle. Remember when she said she liked that bottle of Smith Brandy I brought as a joke! It was only a year and a half old! I said don’t look! Oh shit, hang on, I’ll call you on the phone and then it’ll look like we’re both on the phone so then we won’t have to talk to her. I can’t believe she got another tattoo. And it’s a tribal band! Oh man, remember when people used to get tribal bands! Morons, they’re stuck with those things now. If she was going to get a tattoo she should’ve gotten something colorful, like I just got. I’ll bet it’s not even from Paco’s Parlor. I’ll bet she got it from Lusitania, that goth shop where they don’t clean the needles. Their reds totally suck. Their blues are ok, but their reds are so awful. The reds need more rouge around the edges, it feels like they’re not quite alive, or just recently subdued while the blues have the perfect sadness slash melancholic undertones and it’s...shit, here she is, get your phone.

A single duck walks across a strip of grass and carefully plops into the pond that he likes very much. Quack.

Thank god she left. Was she wearing red lipstick? Did you notice that? Who wears lipstick anymore? I know I’m wearing lipstick but it’s blue. She had red lipstick on and that only works if you’re going for the fifties homemaker look ironically. It’s like she’s from mars or something. Do you want more coffee? This place has good coffee, not great. But the water is good here. Really good water. Yeah, well, the blend here isn’t as pure as at Rococo’s down the street. Rococo’s has an agent they send to the South of France every year, and then he takes off his shoes and walks to Morocco, and then spends the summer hand picking coffee beans, and mailing them back in bundles, each bundle only has enough beans in it for one pot of coffee. So sometimes you have to stand around waiting for the mail. But it’s absolutely worth it, no other place in town makes a cup of coffee like that. If you lined up cups of coffee from every shop in the city, I could pick out Rococo’s in a heartbeat. You can just taste the struggle of it. It has more vibrance, more life to it. Hints of chestnuty aftermath, crossed with just a burgeoning of lemon. It’s really quite something.

Lucy Harris stumbles on the top step of her stairway, but at the last moment grabs the railing and avoids disaster.

The water down there isn’t bottled, though. It’s ridiculous and I hate it. Yeah, I know they serve tap water at Xander’s, but that’s part of the theme. They’re going for the greasy spoon motif, that whole place is basically a living art piece. This place, they must do something to the water, because the aftertaste is much better, it’s crisper, more like snow. I heard that’s what they do, I heard they freeze the water, then shave the ice into a pot, heat it, then serve it over ice and a single mint leaf from South America. You can tell. It makes a huge difference. And if you sip it right after you sip the coffee it really cleanses the palate and you get less aftertaste from each and it’s like a third drink. It’s really hard to do though, I had to practice. Look it up on the internet. No, not wikipedia. I find that website to be very suspect. The originality of the writing is compelling, but the factual information is a little flat. It leaves a person wanting. Maybe it’s just me, maybe you can look at it. I just can’t. I get all of my information elsewhere.

Calvin Denofa accidentally shoots his wife while packing for a hunting trip. She falls.

Cloves? No I don’t smoke cloves anymore. I did for a while, but then I heard about Toves, it’s basically the same but with tofu. So it’s better for you. Yeah, I thought so. It’s one of those things I thought of inventing and then found myself busy elsewhere. Like Ipods. But Ipods are blase anyway, that’s all you see anymore, those little ear buds. I think if it weren’t for the sheer convenience and affordability of ipods, nobody would own them. I got a pair of DJ Brand Ultraphones. They’re like earmuffs, but for music. I wear them with my Delflora Scarf and those really original boots I got from the thrift store on Valencia. I wear them during YoGaPolTis. That’s Yoga Palati’s Pole Dancing and Greco Roman Wrestling. GRW? Oh, it’s been around forever. I’m not sure how long, but it’s very liberating, very refreshing. This guy, Arman Hidelshassen, he’s figured out a way to incorporate all four of them and plays techno the whole time, but the good techno. Like AshRam NeedleTime but not Thatcher Supremeonoid. It’s a workout. What? No, I doubt it, there’s a huge waiting list. I was on it for a year. I sat around waiting for that class for a fucking year. That’s how huge it is. You’ve probably seen me with my YoGaPolTis Mat and Helmet set. I’ve always got them in the front basket of my 1967 Schwin WinnDixie Bicycle, it’s retro. Not old, no. Retro.

A war erupts. There is horrible screaming nearly constantly for a period of months.

I had to stop going there. Yeah, to Gilgamantis. The tree store. They just don’t have any good trees anymore. I hate it. I know, last month. The trees there are just old. No, not retro, just old. They used to be cool, I just can’t really deal with the whole tree thing anymore. Everyone has one, it’s so annoying. Oh, there’s Brad. He’s so great. Look at his tattoos.. Look at his beard. He looks so dirty! He totally hates the war. And Radiohead. And loves Rococo’s. He loves music, except for bands that have been around for more than two years, unless they’re old enough to be on vinyl. And look how ironic his clothes are! A sailor hat! What? No, I don’t know. I’ve never talked to him.

A star explodes and an entire alien civilization is destroyed in an instant.

-----------

And that's the end.

one foot feet