A black and evil place
There will be no posting today, as I am in a black and evil place, and I'm sure you are tired of hearing of such things, as I am tired of reporting them. Hopefully I will be out of this black and evil place soon, and I can tell you of good, worthwhile things that make us all feel better. Wait. There is a small man licking my foot. Get away, I say! Back! Ridiculous. Who are you? That's disgusting. What sort of place is this? Oh yes. A black and evil one. Still, even in a black and evil place that is just no sort of behavior.
Anyway, as I said it is quite unthinkable for me to post anything today, as I... Good God, he's back again. Get away! He's licking my foot! What's wrong with you? I'm going to stand over there. You stay there. Stay there, and don't come near me. Licking my foot, really... Where's the conductor? I should have that man thrown out.
Once I am in better spirits I have every confidence that... You are joking! You have got to be joking with me! Ow! Now, he's actually biting my foot! Can you believe this? That places exist where someone would persistently lick, and then bite your foot? Unprovoked? Ridiculous that I should find myself in such a place. A black and evil place where strange men accost you in strange ways. Wait a moment, please, while I fetch my umbrella, and give this odd fellow a sound thrashing.
(pause)
There, that should teach him. I know you can't see him, unless you yourselves are in a black and evil place, which I hope you are not, but I have beaten the strange man about the chest, head and ankles. I am quite sure that this beating will prevent him from approaching me further. Now what was I saying?
Oh yes, the lack of posting today. I apologize to my faithful and loyal readers, but... No! It cannot be! For I find there is once again the sensation of licking on my foot! I dare not look down to confirm with my eyes that this is the case as I find myself paralyzed with a sort of terror! Not fear of the man, as I mentioned he is quite small in stature and easy to beat with an umbrella, but fear of a universe that would allow a creature to exist, a creature that would continue licking your feet despite all obstacles. Perhaps I am wrong; perhaps it is only an animal licking my foot. But no, it is a velvety caress that assails my feet, not the sandpaper touch associated with the lower mammals. Perhaps I have suffered a stroke, or some other debilitating mental impairment and I am experiencing the phantom sensation of footlicking without its actual physical counterpart.
No. To be sure, I must motivate the tendons in my neck, cast down my gaze and confirm that which my secret heart screams to be true: the little man is licking my foot. I will look now.
(pause)
There is no God. As I child I feared it was the case, and now I know it to be true. No creator, malevolent or benign, would allow a farce such as this to continue. I will never be rid of this little man, nor shall I escape this black and evil place unless I take brutal action; I will have to beat the little man to death with my umbrella. I would like to say that, as a civilized man, I would take no pleasure from the death of another human being, but that would be a lie. I believe that the fate I am preparing to exact on the little man to be a minor crime compared to the mountains of emotional agony he has inflicted on me. Excuse me.
(pause)
(pause)
There, it is done. God, what a mess. No matter, the little man has been dealt with, and I am inclined to believe it was a merciful act. After all his life seemed to consist of little more than tonguing the feet of strangers in this black and evil place. I wonder if this is his home, or if he was merely an unfortunate visitor like myself? Bah, such speculation is useless. Where was I?
Oh yes, I will not be posting today. In a few days when I have returned to the elysian fields I am accustomed to, I will resume. But until then, nothing. For this I apologize.
Anyway, as I said it is quite unthinkable for me to post anything today, as I... Good God, he's back again. Get away! He's licking my foot! What's wrong with you? I'm going to stand over there. You stay there. Stay there, and don't come near me. Licking my foot, really... Where's the conductor? I should have that man thrown out.
Once I am in better spirits I have every confidence that... You are joking! You have got to be joking with me! Ow! Now, he's actually biting my foot! Can you believe this? That places exist where someone would persistently lick, and then bite your foot? Unprovoked? Ridiculous that I should find myself in such a place. A black and evil place where strange men accost you in strange ways. Wait a moment, please, while I fetch my umbrella, and give this odd fellow a sound thrashing.
(pause)
There, that should teach him. I know you can't see him, unless you yourselves are in a black and evil place, which I hope you are not, but I have beaten the strange man about the chest, head and ankles. I am quite sure that this beating will prevent him from approaching me further. Now what was I saying?
Oh yes, the lack of posting today. I apologize to my faithful and loyal readers, but... No! It cannot be! For I find there is once again the sensation of licking on my foot! I dare not look down to confirm with my eyes that this is the case as I find myself paralyzed with a sort of terror! Not fear of the man, as I mentioned he is quite small in stature and easy to beat with an umbrella, but fear of a universe that would allow a creature to exist, a creature that would continue licking your feet despite all obstacles. Perhaps I am wrong; perhaps it is only an animal licking my foot. But no, it is a velvety caress that assails my feet, not the sandpaper touch associated with the lower mammals. Perhaps I have suffered a stroke, or some other debilitating mental impairment and I am experiencing the phantom sensation of footlicking without its actual physical counterpart.
No. To be sure, I must motivate the tendons in my neck, cast down my gaze and confirm that which my secret heart screams to be true: the little man is licking my foot. I will look now.
(pause)
There is no God. As I child I feared it was the case, and now I know it to be true. No creator, malevolent or benign, would allow a farce such as this to continue. I will never be rid of this little man, nor shall I escape this black and evil place unless I take brutal action; I will have to beat the little man to death with my umbrella. I would like to say that, as a civilized man, I would take no pleasure from the death of another human being, but that would be a lie. I believe that the fate I am preparing to exact on the little man to be a minor crime compared to the mountains of emotional agony he has inflicted on me. Excuse me.
(pause)
(pause)
There, it is done. God, what a mess. No matter, the little man has been dealt with, and I am inclined to believe it was a merciful act. After all his life seemed to consist of little more than tonguing the feet of strangers in this black and evil place. I wonder if this is his home, or if he was merely an unfortunate visitor like myself? Bah, such speculation is useless. Where was I?
Oh yes, I will not be posting today. In a few days when I have returned to the elysian fields I am accustomed to, I will resume. But until then, nothing. For this I apologize.
posted by Dash Bradley at 5:06 PM
4 Comments:
That's alright. Take all the time you need. I'll just be reading about the Preakness Stakes, new copy machines and endless blogs about people who love their dogs.
Shall I send you to a deeper level of hell? I made the mistake of reading Waiter Rant again. And the comments. "ooooh, keep writing. You're so wonderful. You're the best writer ever. Ooooh, let me suck your toes, you're so wonderful..." I want to vomit. VOMIT I tell you. I mean, it's fine. I've certainly read worse. It's not Waiter who irritates me. He doesn't have a bad blog. It's these people who worship him that bother me. There's nothing wrong with being an amateur. But you would think that Shakespeare came back to life and learned to use a computer
He uses cliches. He's not that funny. The people who thought the "extra 5 inches" comment was hilarious must be confined to a hospital bed. And not get many visitors.
Unless... he leaves these posts himself under pseudonyms. That's the only answer.
I say this in all sincerity: if your writing and his writing got into a fistfight, his writing would have no teeth and blood running down its shirt. And two black eyes. And one ear hanging by a thread. Your writing wouldn't even have a scratched knuckle. So there. I have spoken.
SO THIS IS YOUR FAULT?!??! DAMN YOU DASH!!!
Your little man just licks your foot, mine's been stabbing me with a god damned shoehorn!!
A POX!! A POX ON YOU I SAY!!!!!
P.S. They know what you did. Everybody knows what you did.
Have they checked Winnipeg's water supply lately? Perhaps a truck transporting psychotropic drugs fell into the tank.
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