At T-minus-seven minutes ago, I allowed a rogue Benadryl slip past the smooth patch in the back of my throat where my tonsils and adenoids used to hold court and into the sea of acid and Indonesian fried rice that is the Domster's gullet; as we speak, it is racing through my bloodstream with intent to incapacitate. The Biblical plagues of Egypt hold nothing to the recent rash of eye swellings that have been befalling me. I look like Tina Turner after a drunken brawl with Ike. If I knew what was causing them, I could take measures to make sure they couldn't return, but as it is, I can only assume it's divine retribution. Flash to Dom's Former Lives:
Ramesesean Egypt; threw infant Hebrews into the Nile for the crocs.
Periklean Athens; brewed the hemlock tincture that snuffed Socrates.
Hadrianic Rome; cheered as early Christians were mauled and gored by ravenous beasts.
Ming China; hobbled insolent Great Wall workers for insolence.
Mughal India; bricked Sikh children alive in furnaces.
The list goes on and on. It could be worse: I could be visited by that special swelling that only happens when you strain too hard when "laying cable".
As days go, today was as productive as those cows you see on CNN who are given bovine hormones. I got new shoes, and it was a darn good thing. Of my other shoes, I have (1) pair of lumberjack boots, (1) pair of sandals, (1) pair of ratty sneakers, (1) pair of dressy dressy shoes and (1) pair of nice shoes. The "nice shoes" only look nice, as they reek like something foul that you pull out of an aquatic crime scene. I've tried everything, including exorcism, but the shoes laugh at my foolish attempts and continue quietly reeking, often giving off stench that is visible to the naked eye. I also managed to get my books from the IU Gestapo-store, aka the Bookstore, which managed to charge me $81 for four books, one of which was a novel and the other three are bound photocopies. I also managed to push my mask count to 92 with a stunning Japanese Noh mask from devoted Life in the Corn reader, Nori, who brought it back across the Pacific for little ol' me. {welling up}
Last night at dinner with Keith at the Cracker Barrel (mmmmm....) I found myself browsing in their "country store" for tasteful (hahahahaha ah ha...) objet d'art when I stumbled upon the "clearance" section, which at this time of year means "stuff we couldn't move for Christmas." Hanging on a wire Christmas tree that you could buy "as is, no returns" were strange, vaguely Latin American-looking Nativity ornaments. Upon closer inspection, lo! they were African American nativity ornaments. In the Cracker Barrel. Cracker. Barrel. At $.53 a pop, the three that now adorn my wall fill me with a nearly insane amount of delight.
One day, when I grow up and have a big-boy apartment all to my own, I am going to have the most fun house all y'all have ever cast your eyes upon. (Dangling participle.) Just you wait and see.
My fingers now feel as though they've been shot with Novacain(e?). My jaw slackens; a ribbon of slaver snakes down the front of my shirt. Oh, but that my snuggly could be here to help me warm my chilly hooves!
Good night, Blooming.... ZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
2 comments:
Please post us pictures of the $0.53 ornaments. Will they clash with your jewish hand towels or Lumberjack bobblehead? What will you do then? I hope you are not going to have to have a yard sale to weed some of these fine relics.
On another note, with the huge ice storm here in the mid west, the house down the street had all of it's trees fall over and crash their vehicles, some windows and the roof of the house. The only thing in the yard that was unblemished was the 2 foot statue of the Blessed Virgin. I think I will now purchase lots of these and put them in all my vehicles and everyroom in the house to prepare for tonado season..... A word to the wise, you shoud all do this too!
You sure do make some interesting purchases Dom, how's Anthony... he is your travel buddy right? Over break I randomly baught my cusin's friend a lighter for having me over; that... when you open it - it has all these crazy lights runing up and down it... it is a mini jute box... and the flame burns green. That's how you light one in style! Also, my redneck family once again gave me a british patrolium gas gift card. Actually I was excited to get it the first time... thinking I could get something in the store. I only spent the last one recently (right before Christmas) on a zippo (the only thing cool in the store)... I was like cool... I used it on something other than gas! Then... this Christmas I got another British Patrolium Gas Gift Card! Hahaha, what joy!
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