Banned
(This post was last modified: 04-11-2017, 10:04 PM by KAV. Edit Reason: screwed up what else )
Sunday the landscaping service showed up with a small dump truck of compost; sickly sweet in semi fermentation to be distributed on every plant be it native oak or horribly pruned rosebush. I even watched an enthusiastic worker dump it on my small patio arboretum. Yes, gracias companeros but this is a Suquaro and Bristlecone Pine Bonsai and you will kill them as he tells his heffe I am stealing plants from the apartment.
My mother decided to leave the window open overnight. There are two windows and a large patio sliding window and not one is plumb after the Northridge earthquake. I wake up dreaming all the California Condors are circling in my apartment and slowly wake to dozens of black flies. I dress and grab a Martha Stewart magazine this obnoxious 50 something horsey girl afraid to ride her own arab drops off for my poor mother while giving me knowing looks that I'm an abusive son.
I begin the slaughter with more hatred than Attican Skywalker in the Hill People's camp. I have dead, blood filled (my blood and identify the itching on my neck) bodies everywhere and clear the apartment until only the bathroom remains, secure behind a closed door ( damned toilet has been 'singing' all night and maintenance hasn't shown up.)
And there, there on my small inner sanctum of sanity are two flies doing it on the bristles of my Paladin. By now I am also sneezing non stop from the fertilizer and am swinging Martha like a Russian Priest blessing the czar's army with censor except I'm swearing in between nasal explosions. I finally get them cornered together and give them a fairy tale eternal union of mashed together corpses.
I collected the bodies, not bothering with a Vietnam body count to promote military career advancement. My upstairs neighbor comes down and knocks. 'You O.K.? I heard you losing it. I was too, damned flies are everywhere.' He is scratching fly bites on his neck too.
I have my shaving kit undergoing another detailed cleaning and brought my plants inside. My other neighbor was screaming at the Heffe. The guy climbed over her patio fence and was walking up the sidewalk with a SILK FICUS to replant.
I am finally shaved and dressed, mother shopping with miss horsey girl. I am going to lock the doors, turn off the lights and open a bottle, maybe play
LORD OF THE RINGS soundtrack while drinking the remaining dram of L in my old bottle. Martha has a skidmark of black and bloodred fly
right over her smile, never looked so good.
God show mercy on any religious types knock on my door in the next hour.
My mother decided to leave the window open overnight. There are two windows and a large patio sliding window and not one is plumb after the Northridge earthquake. I wake up dreaming all the California Condors are circling in my apartment and slowly wake to dozens of black flies. I dress and grab a Martha Stewart magazine this obnoxious 50 something horsey girl afraid to ride her own arab drops off for my poor mother while giving me knowing looks that I'm an abusive son.
I begin the slaughter with more hatred than Attican Skywalker in the Hill People's camp. I have dead, blood filled (my blood and identify the itching on my neck) bodies everywhere and clear the apartment until only the bathroom remains, secure behind a closed door ( damned toilet has been 'singing' all night and maintenance hasn't shown up.)
And there, there on my small inner sanctum of sanity are two flies doing it on the bristles of my Paladin. By now I am also sneezing non stop from the fertilizer and am swinging Martha like a Russian Priest blessing the czar's army with censor except I'm swearing in between nasal explosions. I finally get them cornered together and give them a fairy tale eternal union of mashed together corpses.
I collected the bodies, not bothering with a Vietnam body count to promote military career advancement. My upstairs neighbor comes down and knocks. 'You O.K.? I heard you losing it. I was too, damned flies are everywhere.' He is scratching fly bites on his neck too.
I have my shaving kit undergoing another detailed cleaning and brought my plants inside. My other neighbor was screaming at the Heffe. The guy climbed over her patio fence and was walking up the sidewalk with a SILK FICUS to replant.
I am finally shaved and dressed, mother shopping with miss horsey girl. I am going to lock the doors, turn off the lights and open a bottle, maybe play
LORD OF THE RINGS soundtrack while drinking the remaining dram of L in my old bottle. Martha has a skidmark of black and bloodred fly
right over her smile, never looked so good.
God show mercy on any religious types knock on my door in the next hour.
