Cleaning up, ducks & honeysuckles.
+ I just got in from a midnight stroll across town after spending an hour deep-cleaning my old apt. While I tried to do my best (even w/o a vacuum), I admit I was rushing to get out of there. It was creepy w/o furniture in there, as if the place wasn't creepy enough. So I wiped down crevices, mopped the floors and "swept" the carpet. The bathroom was worse. I really felt like a mobster leaning over the tub, cleaning up after a murder scene. That's Sopranos' fault, no doubt. So, it's all done. No more 1209 #1.
On the walk back through downtown I'm sure I looked odd, carrying a blue bucket full of cleaning supplies in one hand and a red broom in the other. Drivers-by probably figured I was a late night janitor, a gangsta w/ a long gun and bucket of loot, a chimney sweeper in May or even a crazy blind person w/ head phones on and an upright guiding stick (then I'd be really lost). I kept laughing at myself or at least the picture of myself as all these ideas swam in my head. The walk was only 15 minutes, but it could have been frightening. I just imagined using my broom like a fighting stick, and if I got any other attackers I'm sure a big spray in face with bubbling tub cleanser would do the trick. Clean and mean, that's me.
Don't mess.
+ Earlier this evening I was passing by the Art Center and saw an odd thing in the parking lot of a house. At first I thought, "What is that? A deformed basset hound?" And as I got closer I became a little more puzzled. "No? Is that a platypus right here in downtown?" But as I got about ten feet to "it" my platypus/hound turned out to be a duck fucking a duck. It was strange. Strange. The male had the tiny female pinned down on the asphalt with his toothless beak biting her neck, holding her head twisted in place so she couldn't move. It was just *odd* but one of those little pictures that makes a person think. I thought about sex for about an hour, especially *animalistic* sex between people. All b/c of two ducks.
+ Yes. I wanted to write that the honeysuckle is the best smell. Yeah, I just wanted that noted. *sigh*
Always,
Isom
P.S. I don't know if I'm supposed to be at work at 7:30 a.m. or 2:30 p.m., but one thing is for sure: I'm not ready yet. On my tiny vacation I haven't had a shave in three days and may have forgotten how to do my job. Oh, and my apt. isn't put together at all and my parents are coming on Thursday to check it out. Ha. Wish me luck.
On the walk back through downtown I'm sure I looked odd, carrying a blue bucket full of cleaning supplies in one hand and a red broom in the other. Drivers-by probably figured I was a late night janitor, a gangsta w/ a long gun and bucket of loot, a chimney sweeper in May or even a crazy blind person w/ head phones on and an upright guiding stick (then I'd be really lost). I kept laughing at myself or at least the picture of myself as all these ideas swam in my head. The walk was only 15 minutes, but it could have been frightening. I just imagined using my broom like a fighting stick, and if I got any other attackers I'm sure a big spray in face with bubbling tub cleanser would do the trick. Clean and mean, that's me.
Don't mess.
+ Earlier this evening I was passing by the Art Center and saw an odd thing in the parking lot of a house. At first I thought, "What is that? A deformed basset hound?" And as I got closer I became a little more puzzled. "No? Is that a platypus right here in downtown?" But as I got about ten feet to "it" my platypus/hound turned out to be a duck fucking a duck. It was strange. Strange. The male had the tiny female pinned down on the asphalt with his toothless beak biting her neck, holding her head twisted in place so she couldn't move. It was just *odd* but one of those little pictures that makes a person think. I thought about sex for about an hour, especially *animalistic* sex between people. All b/c of two ducks.
+ Yes. I wanted to write that the honeysuckle is the best smell. Yeah, I just wanted that noted. *sigh*
Always,
Isom
P.S. I don't know if I'm supposed to be at work at 7:30 a.m. or 2:30 p.m., but one thing is for sure: I'm not ready yet. On my tiny vacation I haven't had a shave in three days and may have forgotten how to do my job. Oh, and my apt. isn't put together at all and my parents are coming on Thursday to check it out. Ha. Wish me luck.