Over the Moon

[j__depp]

Many years ago I made a mental agreement with myself that while shooting on location I would continuously try to find at least one simple curio from wherever I happen to be. Whether I am conveniently close to home or thousands of kilometers away I still search for the city’s treasures to call my own. These days the trinkets are more geared

Comments

[ljviggo]

I think I may have purchased a pair of aged and cracked sandals off the very same man, or at least someone very similar. Then again, I could have dreamed everything, or I could be making this all up in order to have a good story in just a few lines. I haven't decided yet.

Re:

[j__depp]

As evidence by my overabundance of words, I say it is quite impossible to tell a good story in without waxing on and on. Though I must admit I am quite interested in seeing these cracked sandals. They sound quite extraordinary. I'm tempted to dare you to explain them in detail even, a task I am quite positive you would meet with flying colors.

Re:

[ljviggo]

All I needed was the merest hint that you wished to hear about them to begin telling you of every curve and flap of leather. The shoes, of course, do not fit. Most likely, I would not have bought them if they did, nor would I have spent such a ridiculously large amount of money on them. They are several sizes too small at least, and when forced onto my feet, cause the most splendid red marks, the texture of the no-longer soft leather having worn away patches of skin where my first toe meets my foot. This pair of sandals, which are a cheap knockoff of birkenstocks, were badly made, as is evident in the fraying stitches and the tendency for the crude varnish on top of the leather to flake off in large pieces. Once intended to be a fetching red, they have deteriorated into an unpleasant terra cotta. One would imagine that these shoes have had a hard life, possibly being abused or put to work in the hot Malaysian sun, though for most of their tyrannical reign, they have been sitting in my closet, enjoying all of the comforts of true

Re:

[j__depp]

So you're saying that your sandals talk to you? Yea, you took the bait! You see, Viggo, I was simply looking for a fair way to admit that my chair speaks to me on a regular basis. She's actually quite the conversationalist. Just the other day she explained to me the mechanics of the entire English language. I fell asleep around comma splices and I am sure she will be testing me shortly. Damn intangible intelligence.

Re:

[ljviggo]

They do! In their own saucy, challenging way, they definitely do converse with me on a regular basis. "Dear Viggo," they'll say in that shrill voice, an unidentifiable accent drifting out of my closet and eliminating all doubts I could have harboured about the source of the voice, "Please open the door, and we'll explain to you the reasoning behind the illegality among scholars of the split infinitive." It seems we both have very opinionated and well-versed possessions. I certainly learn a lot when I am given lengthy lectures on European history, as well.

I wouldn't say to damn this particular form of intelligence. However, we should both probably proceed with the utmost caution.

Re:

[c_parker]

Right. Now both of you are just being silly. Nothing can make me believe in the personification of everyday household items, furniture, clothing or what would normally be inanimate objects.

Go to your separate corners.

Re:

[ljviggo]

They live! I swear they do! I don't enjoy being plagued by a pair of shoes, but that doesn't make it any less true. Alas, I will retreat to my corner now. Must I put my nose against the wall, though?

Re:

[c_parker]

What a lousy Bible rewrite that would be.

On the third day, Christ's sandals did rise again and lo, they did say 'Oi, that sucked being dead, it did.'

Viggo, I simply can't believe it. Call me Doubting Thomas. In any case, you don't have to put your nose against the wall, but no dessert for you.

Re:

[ljviggo]

I think you've just appointed yourself as the writer for a brand new Bible told entirely from the perspective of slightly malicious household objects.

As compensation for this extreme humiliation, by the way, can I please, please, please have a Dunce Cap with my name on it? I will sit quietly for hours on end if only I could have a Dunce Cap.