Friday, August 3, 2012


This is possibly the most ad hoc-iest of posts, ever. Well, maybe for you. For me, it's probably business as usual. See, this is being written on Friday, which should make this day 25, but yesterday on Thursday I had a doctor's appointment. In the real world. one just hops in one's car, drives a half hour to an hour to one's voodoo specialist, depending on the distance and drive time to their Shaman, checks in, gets the magic juju, and heads to the local headhunter to have the potions filled. This process should take no more than 2 or 3 hours tops.

On Nebraska Never-Neverland Avenue, this simple process can be drawn out for ddaaayyyssss.One takes the magic Coach that is driven by Evil Trolls. Sometimes, the spells wear off and the Trolls can be rather civil. The #2 Troll was especially civil yesterday and helped the Blind Princess with her Magic Staff of Light board the Coach. The Princess was in a rather evil mood herself, as she had to deal with the paperwork that the forgetful paperwork Fairies neglected in their rush to get to their tryst with the garbage Gnomes; the forms for "Lilly Cares" remained unfilled. The Princess needs the "Lilly Cares" paperwork, so the Sham-lama-ding-dong can put a magic spell on it, continuing her juju, so the Princess remains only a little batshit insane, not a whole lot batshit insane.

"Lilly Cares my ass," thought the Blind Princess. "I know they'll care if the bastards'll give me a million dollars." So, she was feeling rather put out at her libidinous Fairies, as she scrawled her way through the paperwork. Done with that, showered, dressed, equipped with cane, and paperwork, off went our plucky Princess to catch the #2 Coach. Just as the 8 tiny rats puledl up, the Drunken Dwarf appeared, "hesh, tell 'im t'wait fer me. I'll 'nly be sec..."  DD then proceeded to go hide up under the awning and stand... and stand.... and stand...

Princess shrugged, got on Coach. It's a kneeling platform Coach. Just as Princess tried to step up, Troll lowers the Coach platform. Our Princess took a giant step and almost fell flat on her face. Giggles all around. The Emotionally Conflicted Troll apologized profusely. "It's okay; my timing was off." Eyeroll. The Troll is nice enough though, not like some of these guys. They bite radiators for fun, I swear. So, I, er, the Princess rides to the transfer point of the dreaded #32 Coach. Just about every Evil Troll on this line is beyond Evil Evil Evil. This is where Trolls come when they've fucked up on every other bus route. There's one Evil Evil Evil Troll on this line the Princess has fought with for well over a year. Today, Sadist Evil Evil Evil Troll is driving. Oh goody. My nemesis. This crab has been around since the Hoover administration and without a vacation. The other thing about the #32 line? This is Psychiatrists' Row. Every Psych doctor for Hillsborough County is on this street. As a matter of fact, that's where the Princess is going; to her Psych Shaman. So, you can imagine what kind of hellish fun is to be had here and I'm one of the main participants. I'm ahead on points right now.

Just as our heroine steps on the bus, er, Coach,  Evil Evil Evil Sadist Troll raises the step from kneeling position. The Princess cracks her shin on the platform. Evil Evil Evil Sadist Troll grins evilly at her. "Swine," she says, under her breath. "What, mistress?" ET cackles. "EVIL BASTARD!" Coach cheers. 8 tiny rats gallop on, before Princess has a chance to find her cushioned seat. She ends up face down in the aisle. Coach boos and hisses.

Just as Princess turns over and gets to her feet, the Coach lurches to a halt. Time to exit for Shama-lama-ding-dong. Our Princess daintily exits, a la Buffy the Vampire Slayer, by jumping 20 feet from the Coach door to the curb. That Evil Evil Evil Sadist Troll really is an asshat; he couldn' be bothered to get in the right-hand lane of traffic and pull over to let the Princess out. So, for those scoring at home, Battle Royale, Round 873, Evil Troll 2, Princess 0. I'm still ahead on Style. And this has the added fun of jumping while attempting to dodge incoming traffic.

Shama-lama-ding-dong is always a hoot; I love the questions. Are you eating chair cushions? Have you been trying to climb in the referigerator? Blah blah. The only one that threw me is, are you a danger to yourself or others? Can you qualify that? Do you mean intentionally? Because I am "unintentionally", all the time. And yes, I am intentionally to others, but only when I need to "intentionally" be a danger to them. And then, I'm not a danger, I'm Intentionally, actually lethal. Geeze, what a stupid question.

But, Shama-lama-ding-dong admits I look good and sound good. I feel good. Better than good, actually. I know, that being life, this too shall pass, but while it lasts, I'll take it, crazy and all. Oh yeah, the reason for all this sturm und drang; this whole process to-and-fro'ing took about 7 hours. Day 25 will follow later today. Mustn't slip on my laurels; I hate when that happens.

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