1. Tuesday, November 9, 2004

    one from the vault 

    my hundred monkeys broke out of their room last night while i was passed out and they went straight for the garage and cracked open the soda fridge.

    i caught them this morning trying to defrost some rib roast.

    they flung feces at me, but i had some of my own and im a better shot.

    fuckers.

    corralled most of them before kickoff this morning but i think theres one around here hiding cuz i can smell cigarette smoke.

    during their rampage they knocked over the tommy chong bong and got bongwater all over my computer and now my box needs its button pushed and held before it will turn on.

    and no, im not talking about clipper girls cousin.

    so i tried to burn my porn real quick off my hard drive just incase this thing has a short thats dying to pop and fritz out this whole mo fo and the computer shut off about 5 minutes into the burn, so this might be my last dispatch till tomorrow.

    this all might be karmic payback for not picking up the phone when the 90 year old landlady called.

    it was her on tuesday who the firetrucks and ambulance was for.

    on thanksgiving day she called me while i had a fork full of hot steamy soul food and she wouldnt tell me why but insisted that i come over.

    i did.

    she said her backdoor was open and unlocked.

    gross.

    got over there and she had me adjust her pillows.

    she had locked herself inside her room. instead of a bedroom door she had a screen door. it was ripped by the handle so she could lock it from her side but if someone needed to come in they could slip their hand through the rip in the screen.

    she really isnt that crazy.

    she told me she was making a will, what did i want.

    i told her i wanted some of her mothers original paintings.

    she said, which ones. i said the ones youve been looking at all these years, and i pointed to the ones behind me.

    there was a totally uneaten can of wet cat food on top of a table. it had been mushed at a little, and its consistency was sagging so at a quick glance it looked like a heap of shit on a plate. but it was just cat food.

    her cat cowered beneath the table.

    the place smelled of powder and she told me that she couldnt walk any more, that it was right where her left front pocket would be if she wasnt wearing a housecoat.

    she said she couldnt walk anymore and showed me a little trash can where she said she would probably use

    she said her new girl was black and good but wouldnt be around until monday

    she said her doctor was out of town until monday and he had left the number to the doctor who was going to cover for him, but she didnt remember his name.

    she asked if i was going to be in town this weekend.

    i lied and said no.

    just then the phone rang. it was her best friend in illinois. she had told me about him before. she said hi cliff to him and told him to call her later and he slowly said that he would.

    i looked around. i liked her place.

    she told me to go look in the living room for anything else that i would want.

    she had old records, great old books. i wanted everything.

    i returned and she told me to make sure i had closed the screen door in the living room.

    i told her all i wanted was this old book of mark twain stories.

    she said, is that it? that i had been so nice to her.

    i hadnt been so nice.

    she bought me a chocolate tort once.

    she had me write down the numbers of people like this animal rescue guy who she wanted all the left over stuff to go to.

    she wanted him to have most of her money cuz she loves animals.

    good thinking, i told her.

    she called a few hours later. i didnt answer. she knows a lot of people.

    she also knows 9-1-1.

    she said her biggest fear was what would happen to her cat.

    when she called 9-1-1 on tuesday they told her that they would have to take her to the hospital. she said what about my cat, they said who cares about your cat.

    so she didnt go to the hospital.

    next day she realized that the animal rescue guy would take care of her cat.

    i know if i promised her that i would take care of the cat she would give me everything that she has, records, books, new tv, 100 year old original american art that really is good

    cases of ensure.

    but i dont like cats.

    even mellow ones who pretty much just hang out.

    i barely like monkeys.

    stereogum + accordian guy + cry of capricorn