I drank his cerebro-spinal fluid like cherry-lemon Kool-Aid.
***
She came last Saturday afternoon, her graying head bent low to the frigid winds, and knocked witheringly on the "front" door to the wretched hovel I call my home. I'd been expecting that the birthday present I'd bought for myself was to be delivered at any astral moment, and when I saw that she wasn't a postal service representative through the slats of the blinds, I was tempted to release the hounds, recline in a comfortable chair and sip an adult beverage while watching them burrow into her body cavity for a snack - a welcome break from the housecleaning that seemed to be going nowhere. As I watched a pet-fur tumbleweed creep unbidden across the floor in direct affront to my efforts, I remembered: the closest thing I have to a "hound" is the anorexic, neurotic gazelle/alligator mix that was, at that moment in time, engaging in his favorite pastime; namely, looking baleful. The other house-beast, though, would have taken her out with profound pleasure were he not preoccupied with the insertion of his bifurcated cathood into the mantle of his plush squid lover. To make matters of speaking with her more difficult, I was scantily clad; on my trunk, I'd chosen to wear what people in my old multiethnic New Jersey neighborhood called a "wop tee", and, girding my loins, hung a pair of scuzzy shorts that were stained in a way that left little to the imagination regarding the accident that rendered them into house-pants. I turned off the ShopVac, wiped my greasy forehead on a rag and opened the door.
Me: Hi. What the feck do you want?
Graying Survey Lady: Can I come in?
Me: No.
GSL: Do you remember getting a letter two weeks ago indicating that I'd be coming to your residence to conduct a survey about drug use and abuse, and attitudes towards them?
Me: [lying] No.
GSL: Well, I'm here now and it's motherhumping cold out here, so would you please give me ten goddamn seconds of your time? Inside?
Me: [reaching into pocket for machete; not finding one for many obvious reasons, looking around for suitable braining instrumentation] Fine. But only in the mudroom, which smells like a dead hobo's foot that has been encased in a ski boot in July.
She began by asking the preliminary questions that would determine if Keith and I were going to be eligible to participate in the actual survey itself. After five minutes, the results were in: apparently, the opinions of two very liberal, Indiana-dwelling, non-Hispanic crackers matter greatly to the NDUH (National Drug Use...uh...Hippocamp), and we were selected to receive a later visit if we so desired. While I am vigilantly poised to assist in the acquisition of knowledge of nearly any form, I wasn't entirely sure if I was thrilled about being asked deeply personal questions about a sensitive topic without any real idea* about how the data would be collected and utilized.
GSL: We pay each of you thirty bucks in cold, hard cash for participating.
Me: See you Tuesday.
GSL: [under her breath] Awesome.
7 PM, Indiana Special We-Can't-Make-Up-Our-Mind Time
The Greenwood Man-Lair: Tuesday (Last Night)
With the stench of our hastily-consumed white-trash dinner still hanging pregnantly in the air, we welcomed Graying Survey Lady into our home, where she quickly ensconsed herself at our kitchen table. Keith, who had never met the woman before, offered her tea or something else to drink. Her eyes trained to various parts of our kitchen and, determining that she'd more likely than not need an inoculation to use any of our glasses or mugs, politely declined and began turning on the laptop computer. She explained how we'd answer the questions (privately, via laptop) and gave a little prepared speech about what the data would be used for; namely, some sort of genocide.
After answering a dozen or so questions about tobacco and alcohol abuse, the survey started to become interesting. Questions about marijuana use turned quickly into questions about huffing paint-thinner and Pam, and from there, cocaine and its sundry forms. Before long, the survey began to look like this:
[22] Please refer to the Handbook provided and turn to Visual Reference Number 4. On this page, you will see pictures of various narcotics; since we assume that you were too fecked up to remember their names while you were using, please un-dilate your pupils and concentrate. Hey: maybe the nice lady will give you some Cool Ranch Doritos after this session if you're really good.
Please indicate your response by pressing the appropriate number keys when you your disease and chemical-addled brain will allow you to remember the following:
a) Which of these pretty pills did you chase down with a chaser of a liter undistilled Ukrainian vodka last Saturday night after finishing the Walker, Texas Ranger marathon on Canadian Broadcast Television?
b) Which of these pretty pills did you meticulously grind into a fine powder which you then snorted off the ass of a Indonesian businessman using a rolled-up 10 rupiah note? I mean, we assume it's the blue one, but go ahead.
c) Which of these pretty pills caused you to go to a formal work function dressed in a Hawai'ian bedsheet you'd cut a head-hole out of in the full belief that you were the rightful reincarnation of the Panchen lama?
[Processing previous answers; please be patient, as this may take several minutes]
Based on your previous answers, our records would indicate that you are most likely high right now. Though this survey software can't be certain, it is probable that you are flying tight on the wings of JSPGN, colloquially known on the streets as John Stamos' Proud Greek Nutsack. Though known to cause involuntary paralysis and death, bully for you for managing to score a pat of it in your pathetic soccer-mom neighborhood.
Please press [1] for 'yes' or [2] for 'no' if you are willing to allow the survey-giver-lady a sweet drag of its face-numbing goodness from your stash.
{pressing [2]}
Fine. Be that way.
[23] Since we have determined that you are, chemically-speaking, on a different plane of existence at the moment, please indicate for our survey how you feel about Annie Lennox's music video "Walking on Broken Glass."
a) Annie Lennox frightens me; is she, like, a vampiress or something?
b) I asked for a powdered wig for my bat mitzvah.
c) I have improbable nostalgia about eighteenth-century France; snuff, slightly rancid meat, harpsichords and guillotines all sound pretty fancy to me.
d) John Malkovitch sired a bastard child with me and refuses to return my calls, so seeing him with a ridiculous ponytail always makes me smile inwardly while I cut pictures of us on our vacation to Mallorca into nearly microscopic pieces with an X-acto knife.
[pressing 'c']
[24] Which of these languages do you speak? Please select all that apply.
a) Susquehannock
b) Manx
c) Ubykh
d) Mohegan
e) Cornish
[selection of 'c']
This was a trick question, as all of the languages on this list are functionally extinct - some for more than a century. You are some special kind of retard - and a functional liar. I have half a mind to terminate this session and refuse to give you the thirty clams - which, considering that you'll spend it on smack, might be a service to you. To redeem yourself:
[24] One of the following street-drugs is real. Please select it from the list below.
a) St. Blaise's Glass Eye [SBGE]
b) Chiang Mai Harelip [CMH]
c) Cicero's Hairy Taint [CHT]
d) Georgia HomeBoy [GHB]
e) Shirley Temple's Uvula [STU]
***
The survey ended (after a correct selection of "Georgia HomeBoy" **) and the Graying Survey Lady gathered her things and gave us each a crisp ten and twenty combo apiece, bid us good evening and, looking over her slight shoulders the whole way, hastened from our home.
We held our cash up to the light (you can never be TOO sure about these things) and, determining that we were possessed of genuine mint, proceeded to plan for how we'd spend our newly-found largess. Eyes agleam, we knew there was no other choice for our purchase.
The next night, under cover of darkness, a brand new DustBuster was secreted into our home to begin a long life of abject drudgery sucking up pet-fur tumbleweeds the size of capybaras.
Until next week, I remain,
Domonic (no,wereallydidbuyahouseholdappliancetosuckuppetfur) Potorti
*Other than the letter which had arrived two weeks before, which clearly, in black and white AND with graphs, told me exactly what it'd be used for. Whatever.The Greenwood Man-Lair: Tuesday (Last Night)
With the stench of our hastily-consumed white-trash dinner still hanging pregnantly in the air, we welcomed Graying Survey Lady into our home, where she quickly ensconsed herself at our kitchen table. Keith, who had never met the woman before, offered her tea or something else to drink. Her eyes trained to various parts of our kitchen and, determining that she'd more likely than not need an inoculation to use any of our glasses or mugs, politely declined and began turning on the laptop computer. She explained how we'd answer the questions (privately, via laptop) and gave a little prepared speech about what the data would be used for; namely, some sort of genocide.
After answering a dozen or so questions about tobacco and alcohol abuse, the survey started to become interesting. Questions about marijuana use turned quickly into questions about huffing paint-thinner and Pam, and from there, cocaine and its sundry forms. Before long, the survey began to look like this:
[22] Please refer to the Handbook provided and turn to Visual Reference Number 4. On this page, you will see pictures of various narcotics; since we assume that you were too fecked up to remember their names while you were using, please un-dilate your pupils and concentrate. Hey: maybe the nice lady will give you some Cool Ranch Doritos after this session if you're really good.
Please indicate your response by pressing the appropriate number keys when you your disease and chemical-addled brain will allow you to remember the following:
a) Which of these pretty pills did you chase down with a chaser of a liter undistilled Ukrainian vodka last Saturday night after finishing the Walker, Texas Ranger marathon on Canadian Broadcast Television?
b) Which of these pretty pills did you meticulously grind into a fine powder which you then snorted off the ass of a Indonesian businessman using a rolled-up 10 rupiah note? I mean, we assume it's the blue one, but go ahead.
c) Which of these pretty pills caused you to go to a formal work function dressed in a Hawai'ian bedsheet you'd cut a head-hole out of in the full belief that you were the rightful reincarnation of the Panchen lama?
[Processing previous answers; please be patient, as this may take several minutes]
Based on your previous answers, our records would indicate that you are most likely high right now. Though this survey software can't be certain, it is probable that you are flying tight on the wings of JSPGN, colloquially known on the streets as John Stamos' Proud Greek Nutsack. Though known to cause involuntary paralysis and death, bully for you for managing to score a pat of it in your pathetic soccer-mom neighborhood.
Please press [1] for 'yes' or [2] for 'no' if you are willing to allow the survey-giver-lady a sweet drag of its face-numbing goodness from your stash.
{pressing [2]}
Fine. Be that way.
[23] Since we have determined that you are, chemically-speaking, on a different plane of existence at the moment, please indicate for our survey how you feel about Annie Lennox's music video "Walking on Broken Glass."
a) Annie Lennox frightens me; is she, like, a vampiress or something?
b) I asked for a powdered wig for my bat mitzvah.
c) I have improbable nostalgia about eighteenth-century France; snuff, slightly rancid meat, harpsichords and guillotines all sound pretty fancy to me.
d) John Malkovitch sired a bastard child with me and refuses to return my calls, so seeing him with a ridiculous ponytail always makes me smile inwardly while I cut pictures of us on our vacation to Mallorca into nearly microscopic pieces with an X-acto knife.
[pressing 'c']
[24] Which of these languages do you speak? Please select all that apply.
a) Susquehannock
b) Manx
c) Ubykh
d) Mohegan
e) Cornish
[selection of 'c']
This was a trick question, as all of the languages on this list are functionally extinct - some for more than a century. You are some special kind of retard - and a functional liar. I have half a mind to terminate this session and refuse to give you the thirty clams - which, considering that you'll spend it on smack, might be a service to you. To redeem yourself:
[24] One of the following street-drugs is real. Please select it from the list below.
a) St. Blaise's Glass Eye [SBGE]
b) Chiang Mai Harelip [CMH]
c) Cicero's Hairy Taint [CHT]
d) Georgia HomeBoy [GHB]
e) Shirley Temple's Uvula [STU]
***
The survey ended (after a correct selection of "Georgia HomeBoy" **) and the Graying Survey Lady gathered her things and gave us each a crisp ten and twenty combo apiece, bid us good evening and, looking over her slight shoulders the whole way, hastened from our home.
We held our cash up to the light (you can never be TOO sure about these things) and, determining that we were possessed of genuine mint, proceeded to plan for how we'd spend our newly-found largess. Eyes agleam, we knew there was no other choice for our purchase.
The next night, under cover of darkness, a brand new DustBuster was secreted into our home to begin a long life of abject drudgery sucking up pet-fur tumbleweeds the size of capybaras.
Until next week, I remain,
Domonic (no,wereallydidbuyahouseholdappliancetosuckuppetfur) Potorti
** I am not making this drug up. I had never heard of it and it either exists or is, potentially, a ruse-drug name used to lure liars into false confession so as to eliminate their data sets. Either way, wow.
