Related (or not)
Last Weak | Index | Next Weak
1 October 2010
No. 8,445 (cartoon)
I think beauty is only skin deep.
I have a knife; why speculate?
2 October 2010
Lisa’s Cadaver Concerns
Lisa wanted to know what to do with my body if I died during a visit with her here in Boston. I’m not sure what prompted the question; I’ve always enjoyed good health.
I didn’t know how to answer, since I’ve predictably procrastinated and have never made any plans to die. I figure when I’m dead I won’t have to worry about anything, including what to do with my cadaver. I suggested that she just drag my corpse to the curb and let the trash collectors deal with it, but she thought that was an unsatisfactory plan. At Lisa’s insistence, I’m publishing instructions on what do to with my body when I’m done with it.
I want it to be laid out nude in the desert and photographed once an hour for a year. I want the eight thousand, seven hundred and sixty images made into a movie that, at twenty-four frames a second, should weigh in at just over six minutes. I imagine it will show me momentarily bloating before rapidly decomposing, with perhaps a bit of flesh removed by coyotes, vultures, and other scavengers. I’d wager that the last five minutes will show my motionless skeleton, unless some opportunist comes by to yank out my gold tooth. (That’s probably irrelevant, since the thief would probably steal the camera documenting my decomposition as well.)
If this seems like too much work for anyone who ends up with a dead me in their guest room, hauling me out to the curb for trash pickup is fine with me. Really, don’t bother with anything fancy.
What will happen with my corpse? Surprise me!
3 October 2010
Listen and See
I’m in the District of Columbia, so I took advantage of being in this wretched place to record a new song at Batlan Studios.
After I was done with my vocals (which I really can’t call singing), I noticed blood splattered on my microphone.
“Is that bad?” I asked Paul.
“There’s good blood and bad blood,” Paul explained. “Let’s have a listen and see.”
We agreed it was good blood.
4 October 2010
I was walking down Connecticut Avenue when I spotted an ad for an edible book contest at a local library. Unfortunately, I missed the event by a couple of days. I kept walking, since, after two days, all of the edible books would be either eaten or rotting.
5 October 2010
The Munich Oktoberfest began 18 September ended yesterday. Why the organizers don’t call it Septemberfest, this I do not know.
Der Spiegel published some interesting statistics. Revelers quaffed seven million liters of beer. And that’s real beer, not American beer-flavored water. Having said that, that’s really not that much beer given that there were more than six million visitors over sixteen days.
Of course, some people drink more than others. That may or may not have something to do with the published lost and found numbers: “1,450 items of clothing, 770 identity cards, 420 wallets, 366 keys, 330 bags, and 320 pairs of glasses, 90 cameras, and 90 items of jewelry and watches. A total of 37 children were also lost.”
Other numbers weren’t impressive. Partygoers stole only one hundred and thirty thousand large beer glasses, a downturn from previous years.
I doubt I’ll ever visit Oktoberfest. I can buy at least a thousand liters of Rainier Ale for the price of the cheapest flight to Munich. Plus, I don’t have to wear those damnable itchy lederhosen while I’m drinking it.
6 October 2010
Fretting from Coast to Coast
Another day, another flight. Today’s trip started with minor confusion; another passenger sat in my assigned seat on the wrong side of the aisle. I volunteered to take his seat, adding that it would be pretty funny if we crashed and his family gets my charred crisp of a corpse and vice versa.
The other hombre didn’t think it was very funny; some people just don’t have a sense of humor.
Several hours later, we were circling San Francisco waiting to get permission to land in the dense fog. The humorless guy across the aisle from me was fretting aloud that he’d miss his next flight to Sacramento. I thought it pretty amusing that anyone would actually want to go to Sacramento, but that obviously never occurred to the humorless guy.
I felt sorry for the fretter, so I tried to cheer him up.
“Don’t worry,” I said, “this plane has a finite amount of fuel, so we’ll certainly be on the ground pretty soon one way or the other.”
The sad fretter continued to stew in his own juices. I guess some people just don’t know how to enjoy flying.
7 October 2010
Rebecca’s Reassuring Rationale
Hoo boy, Rebecca’s in trouble again. Boy trouble, girl trouble, work trouble, police trouble, family trouble? I didn’t ask.
I told Rebecca that I was concerned, but she told me not to worry.
“I perjured my way into this mess, and I’ll lie my way out,” she said with reassuring a smile.
I believed her. She’s done that sort of things many times in the past; I’m sure this latest fiasco will also blow over.
8 October 2010
Seven Speakers Too Many
Sheila called invite me to her party tonight. I was comfortably settled on my boat, so I asked for details.
“I’ve invited seven great speakers,” she explained. “The talks start at eight.”
“Dang; I wish I’d known sooner,” I lied. “I need to change the oil in the bilge pump. I’d love to come to your party, but if I don’t change the oil before midnight the warranty is voided.”
“I of course understand,” she replied. “I’ll see if I can send you some transcripts of the talks.”
“I shall look forward to that,” I concluded.
Both of us knew we were lying, but it wasand isa comfortable arrangement. Respectful duplicity is the basis of our relationship, and we both appreciate that. After all, sustainable relationships are hard to find.
Last Weak | Index | Next Weak
©2010 David Glenn Rinehart