Monday, February 1, 2010

Jebberwockey

What an interesting place, that Dungeons & Dragons store. It must have been potion only since I only saw bottles of interestingly colored remedies. As for my keepsake, I purchased the red crested bat. The name read "Bacardi" but I was certain that it was simply a reference to the Crimson Bat guild. If I drink this, my skills at D&D will increase tenfold! Now to head home and try out this bad boy-.........

$^%& it's raining and sleeting!!! Why do the D&D deities hate me so..... I gotta be quick through this rain and sleet! I don't want my limited edition Sean Connery shirt to get too soaked! It's joggin' time, baby!

~3 minutes later~

*pant pant pant* So tired and dehydrated...but almost there....I may as well take advantage of this rain. *Faces head upward and opens mouth wide* "Slrrrp!" Delicious!

~1 minute later~
Whoo! Made it! No need for a towel, Front Desk Guy. I can make it to my room. All that's left is to ride the elevator and I'm set! Maybe I'll take this time to start planning ahead for future days as well. The unpredictability of this weather is no joke. I should stay sheltered for a while longer until I know for sure that it's safe.

*DING*

Ah the elevator has arrived!...Oh great....its Braxton Jr. Tch more like BRATSton. How do I come up with these things?? I'm a comedic genius, that's how fufufu. Hmm? No I wasn't talking about you. I was saying that I was gonna have Bratswurst, erm liverwurst for dinner while watching Aladdin 4: Jafar Might Need Glasses. Ah this is my floor! A pleasure as always. Oh and don't jump too much when the elevator is descending. You'll fall through the floor.

Fortress of Solitude reached....Mission accomplished!

3 comments:

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  2. Topics of Discussion
    Bruce is taking good care of me these days. Hes the one person you can always depend on ... even in weather like this. When everything else goes out ... like the stereo Bubby Doestein gave me for my Bar Mitzvah 20 years ago ... Bruce still plays on, for that god forsaken battery-powered tape player doesn't depend on the electricity like the other un-self sufficient IDIOT appliances in my walk up. You know sometimes, honestly, I have to get on my knees and act like I know what I'm doing in order to give respect to my toilet. Toilets aren't Jewish ... why would G-d choose them? SO, they don't know that when I am on my knees with my elbows inches apart and hands clasped holding each other like the hands of two people in love that I have no f***g idea what I'm supposed to be doing down there ... like what I'm supposed to say ... I don't pray to idols ... usually ... I mean it's not within the guidelines of my religion ... BUT it is within the respect of my budget so I do it in order to avoid a visit from the plumber, Doc.
    Shit do I feel bad for that fat kid ... Jeb that I met in the elevator the other day. I know I have to go up like 5 more floors than him, but I am not carrying 90% body fat. I think he said he gained something like 20 lbs.? What a schmuck ... except I bet he's not ... HES F***G HUGE! The elevator not working is probably the worst thing that could happen to him ... he doesn't deserve it. So he's probably definitely not taking up that invite for LS tonight ... he couldn't make it up here.
    Taking all things into consideration, like the fact that the only appliance that is working right now is my tape player, which at this rate I will probably marry because Bubby Doestien doesn't have much time and she wants to do the hora one more time before she you know .., the meeting tonight might be a little ... dark.
    So what about lyric interpretation? "Nothing man" has a lot of underlying meaning ... AND let's not forget a side of self worthlessness ... WHICH could lead to a detour roof-top visit. Fuck. I am so tired of seeing people jump ... I mean at least with the sleet and freezing temperatures maybe this time something different could happen ... like a slip instead of just a JUMP. BUT that is totally last resort worst case scenario ...
    Just saying though ... I mean if someone WERE to do it ... and tonight is one of those nasty nights where it's just written in the sky "SOMEONE WILL DO IT," it would just be much appreciated if I could have a different story for the doctors and family.
    O.k. no "Nothing man." No one is doing it tonight on my watch ... and YES ... THAT is battery run, too.
    How about something positive ... likeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee ... cheese. Shit, what if someone is allergic. Lactose intolerance these days is way to freaking common.
    Future plans? Like traveling? OFCOURSE!!!! Not. No one travels anymore.
    I need something that has to do with LIFE .. c'mon JOHN ... this is LIFE SUPPORT ... not BOREDOM support, or FOOD support ...
    Why the hell do I run these meetings again?

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  3. EXCERPT FROM "The Adventure of the Missing Two"

    “Stand at the window here. Was ever such a dreary, dismal, unprofitable world? See how the yellow fog swirls down the street and drifts across the dun-coloured houses. What could be more hopelessly prosaic and material? What is the use of having powers, Doctor, when one has no field upon which to exert them?”
    - Sherlock Holmes, Arthur Conan Doyle, The Sign of the Four

    ...Two is an important number. It is the only prime number that is also even. In nature everything seems to come in twos. Light and dark. Positive charge and negative charge. Matter and antimatter. Male and female. So too in mythology. Heaven and Hell. Sky and earth. Mind and body. Life and death.

    We have two hands, and two eyes, two feet, and two kidneys. There are two sides to every coin, and every argument. You need two people to have a marriage.

    “Got a problem Mr. Alwyn?”

    “My two’s been stolen,” I say before I look at my interrogator.

    The boy has a thoughtful look on his face. He’s holding the same useless clipboard and wearing the same ridiculous over-sized suit as he was my first day at Wilshire Tower.

    “Looks like a Mystery to me.” He says it with a capital M.

    “You know,” I say, “You’re right. It is a mystery.”

    “Are you a detective Mr. Alwyn?”

    “Kind of,” I say. “A detective who only solves mysteries no one else cares about.”

    “Well then this will be perfect! Who else would care about the location of your two?”

    “Good point,” I say and I begin to wander off, unsure of my direction. The flip flop of Braxton Chamber’s clown shoes follows me like a cartoon echo of my steps.

    “Except for me, of course!” He says. A serious look crosses his face. “Inspector Alwyn, can I be your deputy?”

    “Detectives don’t have deputies, that’s for sheriffs,” I say, but the way he looks down at his toes and twists his mouth stops me from continuing. I wonder how many times he paced by my door that morning, waiting for me to exit, to notice what was missing, to enlist his aid in this very important mission. Possibly he had planned for the chance that I wouldn’t notice, had readied sly ways to draw my attention to the empty space on my door.

    Well, I had nothing better to do.

    I followed my odd guide on a wandering path through the building. As we explored I realized how little of Wilshire Tower I’d actually seen. Each floor had its own character. Seven was probably a full half of a foot lower down on the east end than the west end. On floor five I thought they’d installed new wallpaper, until I realized the green pattern was most likely organic.

    Thirteen seemed to have its own floor plan entirely, as though the architect forgot about it until the last minute and had to improvise. This may not be so far from the truth, as the elevator doesn’t seem to go to floor thirteen. Instead we were forced to use the stairs, or at least the sixty percent of them that weren’t almost rotted through.

    Luckily, Braxton knew which ones were safe. I waited before following him, watching him jump up the stairs nimbly and assuredly in a demented game of hopscotch.

    On each floor we visited, Braxton would choose a room at random and knock – a surprisingly solid knock. Then he would wait, coughing importantly until the door was answered, when would squint his eyes and look up at the wary tenant.

    “My associate,” he would say, “is missing his two.”

    There might be a response, but even if there wasn’t he would go on.

    “I’d just like to ask you a few questions.”

    Next was the part where variations were allowed.

    “Mr. Marconi,” he might say, “what is your favorite color?” Or “Mr. Oedkirk, have you frequented the antiques store lately?”...

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