once upon a time on the phone (part one)

the whole concept of RealTime™ is irreverent and rather discarded by a babbler, as you may have noticed along the way as the babbler increasingly moved into this space and presented the relativity of time in a relatively infinite number of ways… this entry is once again and remake of the babbler’s craft and now that the diary home of the babbler is coming alive again (that would be behind the candoor, in case you don’t have your program or haven’t been paying attention for years and years), some amount of spillage, or repeat verabage is bound to appear as there is simply not enough time in each day to be in three writing spaces at once and still find time to let the rhymes flow in dozens of other places (as they have this week) and still function work and in the busy social life i’ve developed in the offline world (and we call this RealTime™, aye?)… so without too much further ado, i bring you the following in two part harmony (that is, two entries) cuz the original is always expanded upon in the remake, didn’t you know that?)…

was it all a dream?…

so… so… long ago… the music plays transitioning from the john lennon classics to the new cd stack and mostly almost unknowns as i imagine the spirit of giving that many call santa (and thank goodness for it too, for the spirit of the other holiday traditions have sure gone the way of hypocrisy in a hand basket over the years, but that’s a rant for another time when i have a tv and watch the news and am in the mood to share opinions on religions and politics and world affairs and the like that i don’t like at the moment) passing through more people in one night than any single human illusion, hope springs eternal once again…

and the phone is an amazing thing (as are run on sentences interrupted by parenthetic asides that all seem to come together to make sense if you are adept at reading the intricacies of the english language… not that i’m any expert or anything… just a babbler with an instinct for rambling on… english teachers are very welcome to ride along)…

so anyway, back to the phone… there i was nodding off, right on the brink of the abyss of endless sleep (or something like that) when the phone starts calling me… it knows my name, but i haven’t taught it to start screaming hey you nodder, pick me the fuck up already (wouldn’t that get a rise out of the board room or local pub crowd… hmmmm, could have a dual meaning and be an interesting conversation starter… or seriously kill any chances of meeting people… but then, that’s how it is with any uniqueness or opportunity, it’s all in the way one handles it… yesterday’s fool is tomorrow’s hero, the school geek becomes the leader of the world, and so on)…

back to the phone (oh, were we rambling on about that now?)… yes, the text messages started snatching me from the sweet arms of dreams (not that i remember any much, but they do get rather wet sometimes so they must be good… have i posted the babble about Vanessa yet?... oh wait, we’re into the phone story) and i decided to send a few myself… and then, like a tsunami from the east, the phone rings and there is smash on the other end (i knew it must really have been him cuz he had a pussy on his lap and he was appropriately pissed)…

after adjusting my ears to accept the original english tongue (not that smash was sticking his tongue in my ear, after all, for all the heroic stories you might have heard about it {his tongue}, it’s not that long after all and besides, it’s way too big to get through the phone line and as sweet as he can be, smash is a bit too manly for me… come to think of it, i was never much for ear licking anyway… except for amy’s ears, as i recall), and there are so many, after all, tongues, that is, but in the end it was great to hear the voice behind the mad author and destroyer of rubbers (friction, you know) in his natural habitat… i wonder if he will remember calling when he wakes up tomorrow…

and if that wasn’t enough, the infamous chad, who occasionally guest posts in the home of smash was there in the background chatting up some unsuspecting innocent from another part of that little rock they call home and probably making her think he was santa claus, or perhaps some darker figure of the night… hopefully she is still talking to him tomorrow… and there will be no warrants out...

ah, the wonderful tomorrows of our lives… those days we wake up and try to find a few pieces of the night before and failing at that, reach for another dose of the dog that bit… i remember them well, those old dogs, though my liver and kidneys are happy i’ve chosen to lose interest in the drunken days of yore… i am old, after all, as my good friend smash reminded me so warmly just a few moments ago (or whenever it was, some time in the future… gotta love a brother who tells you the truth though, so where is that note from that girl who wants me to call her the next time i go out for a run?... yeah, that’s the sort of inspiration i need… cheerleaders... gotta stay in shape to keep up with the twenty year olds)…

so now i am awake again, at least for the moment… and it didn't end there...

(part two follows, ummmm, yesterday :))