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So this morning, after a goblet of fresh blood (or coffee, whichever is more plausible) I wrote a while. I wrote a new chapter in my Final Destination parody, started another story for Bevelled Edge, and even worked on one of my older stories. I pissed away the rest of the day on various activities, until I realized it was nine o'clock and I hadn't yet done anything worth reporting in this journal. I wouldn't want to start slacking off until at least my third entry, so I put on my Swanky Top Hat and went for a stroll around the neighborhood.
Now, I already mentioned it was nine o'clock, and in the midwestern suburbs that means, "lights out, everybody." So the houses were closed up and the streets were all bare, but for me.
But wait! As I walked along, I soon saw that I was wrong in thinking I was the only one outside. Some people seemed to be having a party. The weird thing is, they were having it down at the church. Curious, I crept closer, but they were talking awful quietly, and one of them coughed loudly as I approached, signaling that I was not welcome in their conversation. I moseyed along soon after, and they got in their cars and drove off.
"Crazy Christians," I muttered, traipsing down the sidewalk. My walk continued. I enjoyed the night air and listened to the musical hum of the streetlights. When I reached the train tracks, I'd still not seen anything of import, so I decided to walk alongside them for a while. Now, if you walk alongside train tracks long enough, common sense should tell you what eventually will happen. Yes, I saw a train coming. Of course, I had enough time to jump out of the way. The tracks were lined with a thick brush of trees, and I crouched down between two of them, inches from the tracks, looking up at the mechanical behemoth rushing by me in an orgasm of wind and noise. And wind! God, there was a lot of wind! I held onto my Swanky Top Hat for dear life.
It was really beautiful, that giant roar running past me with glowing green windows. Goodnight to you, Metra. Goodnight to you.
Anyway, satisfied that I had seen something worth reporting to you, I began my walk home. On the way, I passed what appeared to be a family eating ice cream outside the ice cream shop, which is a logical place to eat ice cream. The strange thing was, I though the ice cream shop closed at eight thirty. That's when one of the family looked at me, and I recognized him as the coughing Christian back at the church! He gave me a dirty look and turned away, and that was when I knew I was in trouble.
The rest of my walk was uneasy. I didn't want to mess with those Christians, they were Episcopalians, and they're tough as shit. The last time I crossed them was when I turned down the offer of a babysitting job during masses, and one week later I got food poisoning. I can only imagine what they'd do if they thought I was poking my nose into whatever they were planning back there.
Once I got home, I felt a little safer, though, and I decided to check my horoscope. And there it was in black and white:
"Sonofabitch!" I screamed. So that's what they were up to! They were going to make a Ronald Regan zombie! That guy was nothing but trouble while he was coherent, and I don't think this country could handle both him and Dubya!
"And you knew about it..." I muttered under my breath, "Well, Lloyd Schumner Sr, Retired Machinist and A.A.P.B.-Certified Astrologer, it seems I'll have to pay you a little visit."
...To be continued
Now, I already mentioned it was nine o'clock, and in the midwestern suburbs that means, "lights out, everybody." So the houses were closed up and the streets were all bare, but for me.
But wait! As I walked along, I soon saw that I was wrong in thinking I was the only one outside. Some people seemed to be having a party. The weird thing is, they were having it down at the church. Curious, I crept closer, but they were talking awful quietly, and one of them coughed loudly as I approached, signaling that I was not welcome in their conversation. I moseyed along soon after, and they got in their cars and drove off.
"Crazy Christians," I muttered, traipsing down the sidewalk. My walk continued. I enjoyed the night air and listened to the musical hum of the streetlights. When I reached the train tracks, I'd still not seen anything of import, so I decided to walk alongside them for a while. Now, if you walk alongside train tracks long enough, common sense should tell you what eventually will happen. Yes, I saw a train coming. Of course, I had enough time to jump out of the way. The tracks were lined with a thick brush of trees, and I crouched down between two of them, inches from the tracks, looking up at the mechanical behemoth rushing by me in an orgasm of wind and noise. And wind! God, there was a lot of wind! I held onto my Swanky Top Hat for dear life.
It was really beautiful, that giant roar running past me with glowing green windows. Goodnight to you, Metra. Goodnight to you.
Anyway, satisfied that I had seen something worth reporting to you, I began my walk home. On the way, I passed what appeared to be a family eating ice cream outside the ice cream shop, which is a logical place to eat ice cream. The strange thing was, I though the ice cream shop closed at eight thirty. That's when one of the family looked at me, and I recognized him as the coughing Christian back at the church! He gave me a dirty look and turned away, and that was when I knew I was in trouble.
The rest of my walk was uneasy. I didn't want to mess with those Christians, they were Episcopalians, and they're tough as shit. The last time I crossed them was when I turned down the offer of a babysitting job during masses, and one week later I got food poisoning. I can only imagine what they'd do if they thought I was poking my nose into whatever they were planning back there.
Once I got home, I felt a little safer, though, and I decided to check my horoscope. And there it was in black and white:
"Sonofabitch!" I screamed. So that's what they were up to! They were going to make a Ronald Regan zombie! That guy was nothing but trouble while he was coherent, and I don't think this country could handle both him and Dubya!
"And you knew about it..." I muttered under my breath, "Well, Lloyd Schumner Sr, Retired Machinist and A.A.P.B.-Certified Astrologer, it seems I'll have to pay you a little visit."
...To be continued