Lunatic RavingsBy Stephen Johnson |
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| Sunday, March 11, 2006 A Chunk of the Parts David Gilmour---"On An Island" MoTW---"200 Motels" As I pedalled home with the boxed monkey wedged under my left armpit, I tried to figure out what to tell my mother about why I wasn't at work. I dismissed the "store burnt down and they sent everyone home" story since she sometimes shopped there and would eventually figure out I had lied. I decided to go the sick route and made a quick stop at a friend's house where I downed a couple Tom Collins laced with cigarette ashes, axle grease, raw eggs and sour milk and soon after I developed a sour stomach, shakes, sweats and a pasty complexion. I thanked my friend and continued my journey home, but this time I had to contend with not only a monkey in a box but a gurgling stomach and vomit climbing up my throat wanting to be forcefully expelled from my mouth in a muti-hued arc that only someone like Sally the Throw Up Girl could love and appreciate. When I got home and opened the garage, I found that my mother wasn't even there since her car was gone. This made me happy since I could hold off on my lie and could also take the monkey to my room without fear of discovery yet it also made me sad since I had to hold down the chum-like stuff in my stomach since vomiting in front of her would validate my claim of sickness that much more. Inside, I headed to my room and received a scare as I passed the family room and saw my brother on the couch watching a Godzilla movie while cleaning one of his pellet rifles. Luckily he didn't notice me and I soon found myself in the safety of my room. After removing everything from the closet floor, I threw the boxed monkey against the wall a couple times to make sure it was stunned and then took its limp body from the box and placed it on an old blanket in the back of the closet along with a bowl of water and a couple bananas. Still fighting the gurgling stomach I tried to continue writing my first book about a girl and her talking pony that was dying from some unknown disease but couldn't completely concentrate knowing that I had a monkey to be trained in my closet. But trained to do what? This I couldn't figure as I wrote about the pony's eyeballs being eaten from within by something sinister while it dispensed worldly wisdom to the distraught girl. Soon I found myself daydreaming and soon my mother was home and soon after that I was telling her that I was feeling really sick and soon after that I was in bed with some ginger ale after I was finally able to vomit up the concoction from earlier in the day. I slept well that night. I also slept very soundly since I didn't hear the monkey rise up from its stunned state and I also didn't hear my mother come into my room to wake me up the next morning until she started hollering. COMING NEXT: The pony dies? |
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