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Drlunk's blog
| Monday, October 24th, 2005
The Wind Is In The Buffalo
Author's note: the following is a chronicle of events that occurred in July of 2005, prior to my virtualization. The original form was as an email to an old friend to let her know that I had received a copy of her then new CD. If anything good is to come from the events descibed below, I would urge you all to go to www.cdBaby.com and purchase a copy of The Pralines' "Song of the Day Cafe", featuring my dear old friend, Pam Richardson. And leave a note saying "DrLunk sent me."
So, I drive the cranberry Saturn (the gayest of all models according to Norris) to the Bargersville Postal Facility at 9:20 this morning. A lovely facility, built in 1962, during the zenith of Camelot, little suspecting the tragedy and horror awaiting the youthful and vigorous Jack Kennedy.
But, I digress.
Walking into the lobby, I pulled from my left front trouser pocket a Swiss Army knife, given to me as a birthday present some 25 years ago by Bob Martin on the eve of an ill fated backpacking trip to the
Wyoming Tetons, on which hangs my postal box key. Well worn from 15 years of use, the key slipped with greater smoothness than the government ever imagined into box 322 and there it was; the little yellow postal notification card that I had been impatiently anticipating for the last two days. Finally, my golden postal lottery ticket that bellowed, "Congratuuuulations, you are a proud owner of the debut CD of The Pralines". With trembling fingers, blistered from the preceding evening's Huck session that again had 2 more chord changes than my stunted sausage fingers could smoothly incorporate, I extracted the card, locked the box and removed the key. Looking at the Swiss Army knife before returning it to its trousertory transport, I flashed briefly on all the trouble this knife has brought me at security lines, as one after another bored, underpaid but overly empowered rent-a-agent has stifled the urge to say "Is that a knife in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?"
But, I digress.
Counter rotating precisely 48 degrees, I turned and walked to the door leading to the service counter. Spying through what is left of my peripheral vision, I noted a woman struggling through the front door with an armload of parcels. Ever the gentleman, though never the gentleman caller (That’s an in joke.), I held open the service counter door for her, just a little nod to the civility that should hold this society together. Though what went through my mind as she swiftly took advantage of my perceived weakness and conditioning was something to the effect of, “Shmuck, now you’re going to wait forever behind Ms
UPS here”. In the interest of total disclosure, upon noticing that she had parked her car closer to the Saturn than I would have preferred, the first thought that went through was “This bitch is in a world of hurt if there is one, just one, scratch”.
But, I digress.
Walking into the service area, I exchanged a smile of familiarity with Susie behind the counter, recalling many such encounters with her across 15 years of residency. Susie was the first postal employee I met in 1990, three months after moving here. It took me that long to wonder where the mailbox for the house was located. It was, after all, midsummer when I moved in and thus no reason to ever be outside, except entering and exiting the car. When I noticed there was no mailbox on the house, I scanned the neighborhood and noticed there was not a single mailbox to be found. That morning I entered the post office for the first time and met Susie. Explaining that I just noticed a general lack, mailbox-wise, in my neighborhood, I advised Susie that I believed it was my duty as a citizen to bring this sorry state of affairs to the nearest federal employee, fearing that the teenage contingent in Bargersville must have gone on a mega-rampage involving more convertibles and baseball bats than even the Post Master General could envision. Flashing a smile broader than I had ever seen on a government employee and a snorty, but engaging, laugh, she replied, “You must be Michael Head”. Stunned is too weak of a word to describe the cold sweaty shiver than coursed through my spirit at her utterance. Before I could form the words “How the Fu..”, she chuckled and said “We’ve been saving your mail since it started arriving in July. We knew you’d be in eventually. There’s no home delivery in your section of town, so you can either just get your mail every day from me or get a postal box.” Dropping two very large rubber banded stacks on the countertop, she added, “We don’t have any boxes available right now but I can put you on the waiting list.”
But, I digress.
I tried to wait patiently as Ms UPS dropped her load. I scanned behind the counter and immediately noticed two very exciting things. Susie was certainly displaying a great deal more cleavage than usual on this hot June morning, yeah she was. And, up on the sorting shelf was a yellowish envelope that was the only item there that would be just the right size to hold the treasured Pralines cd. As my mind whirled,
I tried to hold my excitement down. My aging hearing wavered in and out as Ms UPS attempted to carry out her transaction. It was at this moment my inner euphoria was interrupted by Ms UPS’s stinging words “CHEAP & UNINSURED”. I immediately pounced. “Just who the fuck do you think you are to judge me like that? You don’t know me at all, bitch. Besides, I’ve suffered and really worked hard to put that all behind me.” My verbal assault was interrupted and soothed by Susie’s snort and interrogative “Now, Mike, did you stay till closing at Red’s last night?” Red’s being “Red’s Place”, the only bar in Bargersville and damn proud of it. Red’s has been in Bargersville forever and I’m certain the cockroaches will maintain its rich traditions long after the nuclear holocaust or rapture wipes us simians from the planet. Frequent Red’s I do not, except annually on the Saturday that falls closest to Mother’s Day. Red’s hosts a free pork buffet that Saturday, starting about 3pm. Living just 2 blocks away, hell I’m just two blocks from anything in Bargersville, I raid the shit out of Red’s on that day across nine hours, walking out with as many plates filled with as much pork BBQ as I can carry. It was during my third year of residency, as I was making my fifth return to the buffet, that I encountered Susie, drunker than a monkey and showing enough skin to make a Vegas dancer think twice, well, maybe just think. Inviting me to join her, I ordered a round of Jack and Cokes for us as we leapt into our respective piles of pork. Being already highly inebriated, Susie experienced a great deal of difficulty in negotiating her plastic fork the relatively short distance from her plate to her mouth, mostly just overshooting the corners of her mouth. As providence would have it, the red of the BBQ sauce closely matched the red of her lipstick, which was a dead match for the red of her hair. Fetching! Points for fashion coordination, but after a dozen failed attempts, her smile was starting to take on the grimace of Nicholson as The Joker, but with better tits. Much better. Susie noticed that though I had a heaping plate o’ pork, I was not eating. I had to confess my scam, that I was walking as many pounds as I could back to my house, to be stuffed into eagerly waiting Ziplock bags and my freezer. She thought this was a brilliant plan and pledged to help me double my yield, as long as I kept the sour mash flowing. A bargain was set, the liquor flowed, as did 30 pounds of pork. During drinks, I noticed that Susie was sporting no wedding ring, though a pale ring of pink skin showed where one had recently held residence. Asking the obvious question produced the obvious response, peppered with world-class profanity, generally prefaced with “That BASTARD…….”. I forget the details at this point, just that Susie had recently taken on the portfolio of “Married Woman Been Done Wrong” and man-o, did she need to vent. And vent she did. Continually, through drinks, on the street loaded with pork, through my bathroom door as whatever needed relief was given center attention, and if the facts were true as spoken, she was very justified in during so. By 1am, as the last of the pork bearing Ziplocks went into the freezer, Susie said, “Well, that ought to do you”. I replied, “Yea, that should give that coronary a good start.” Taking a ten count, probably would have been a two count if not for the bourbon, she added, “Good, cause now you ought to do me” and hit me with a lip lock right out of the Vulcan Karma Sutra. As intriguing as this proffer was, don’t you know I heard Frank Sinatra’s speech (We’ll you we’re a little worst for the wear, or wine, and there are rules about that.) from “High Society” coming out of my mouth? I walked her back to her car at Red’s, drove her home, two miles in the country on 144, and walked home.
But, I really digress.
Susie’s question of Red’s snapped me out of the rage. Red faced, I apologized for my behavior. Ms UPS finished up her transaction, shot me a well-aimed and deserved look of “Drop dead, asshole” and exited.
Susie exploded into a snortfest of laughter, stating, “Well, you just made my day”. Now giggling, and putting some expert English on a full body wiggle, added “And you’ve got a package in. I just put the card in your box.” Turning to the sorting shelf, she scanned over every item there and mumbled, “Now where did I put that?” Picking up and then dropping the yellow envelope I was certain contained the precious
Pralines cd, she stepped over to the sorting floor, calling “Barbara, did you see what I did with Mike Head’s package?” I spoke up. “Susie, I’m certain that yellow envelope is for me. I’ve been expecting a cd from a dear old friend and I’ll bet that it is in that envelope. It may not say Mike Head on it. It may be addressed to Lunk, or DrLunk or, hell, it might even be Shit Head. But just check the box number on that envelope”. Oblivious to my protestations, Susie returned, looked at every item on the sorting table again, checking the yellow mailer last. “Oh, here it is”, she exclaimed. “Was this here before?” she directed to me. I replied “No, Susie, I leaped over this counter, breaking 18 federal laws, and put it there myself.” This apparent confession brought Barbara, the local post master, into the room, at a dead run, yelling into a collar mic “Security, SWARM, SWARM!” When I regained consciousness, I was bound to a chair, with a high-pressure stream of ice-cold water drenching every inch of exposed skin. Every inch of skin was exposed. The federal agent directing the water cannon stopped long enough to advise me to “Sit tight. We’ll be arriving at GitMo soon enough and get you all sorted out there.” The resumption of the water cannon put me under again. I next awoke in a small concrete room, I guess in GitMo, with a new friend, Mohammad something. He’s been very helpful and, well I’ll just say it, caring. He has assured me, while transcribing my ramblings, that he can get the text out onto the internet and emailed to you. I had to trust him, so I gave him both my email username and password (though I think he took offense to the password being “diemuslimscumbag”). I would suggest you look out for a SPAM barrage in the next couple of days. Sorry about that, but I did want you to know the cd arrived and I will listen to it as soon as I get home. If I'm wary of going back, I'm certain Susie will sneak it out of the post office for me.
| | Posted By Drlunk @ 11:33 AM | [Comment on this blog post] |
| girl-on-a-mission's comment posted October 24th @ 12:27 PM:
OMG Dah-ling... I thought for sure B-ill had scavanged the last of the brownies... Digressing in the extreme is a symptom of... Well, not to worry. I've put in an emergency call to the pale ones, and they'll be there straight away to care for you. Yes, I caught the odd stares from Paulina... but, I think she's just really contemplating an effective means of dispatching me... FAT CHANCE! I did want to mention, however, that Mohammad, has become rather handy to have around... You may want to consider keeping him on. Just a thought. Oh! Yes, by the way the debut cd of the Pralines was well worth the trouble it took to get it!!! :) |
| Drlunk's comment posted October 24th @ 1:19 PM:
No doubt the combination of the residual effects of the brownies coupled with a paranoia about the government involvement led me to post this email from July 2005, but I felt that full disclosure to the members of vce was necessary to avoid the scenerio of you all hearing this in some swarmy venue like the O'Reilly Factor. As to Pouty Pauline, Girl, I have a certain experience and insight to GothGirls and dispatching you was the farthest thing from her mind. She was glaring at lil' queenie and I think she misunderstood the nature of the relationship between the two of you. Although, I must admit a bit of confusion over the two of you insisting on oiling each other down in mid-twist. I don't understand how that helps one to victory in any form of twister, but hey, the video footage is breathtaking! As was the victory shower. "Just how limber can two women be?" is what I want to know. Glad to hear that Mohammand escaped the horrors of GitMo. I owe that little bugger a lot. I would suggest that he stay there with you as my personal liasion, as long as the GothGirls are content to remain here with me. |
| gsxrqueen's comment posted October 24th @ 1:59 PM:
Well that took a long time to read but it was worth it!
As 4 the oil it was the only way to cheat with poor Patrick & Keano as they kept slippin on it lol!
Off to jam now tattyby |
| Drlunk's comment posted October 24th @ 2:09 PM:
Does anybody believe this slippery strategy explaination of Lil' queenie's? I want to take her at face value, but..... |
| B-ill's comment posted October 24th @ 5:36 PM:
lol! not for a second do i believe that! lunk!! well its a good thing you have the video! i think we'll have to replay the strip twister segment a few more times to get this figured out! hold it! freeze it ...right there!
hey!! those two government types outside my door did say something about "gitmo" but i thought they said "get more for you " i thought they were just being hospitable! |
| Drlunk's comment posted October 24th @ 6:39 PM:
I have reviewed the video, repeatedly, forward, backward, fast, slow, wide-eyed and squinting. What I see is a series of knowing glances and private smiles, which I find to be cute, sweet and endearing. |
| djinfla's comment posted October 25th @ 6:39 AM:
Order! Order! This board meeting will need to come to order! Thank you. Ahem...now, as the CEO and person who is probably going to have to answer the subpeona's (not to mention the garish interviews with King, Matthews, and that right wing zealot O'Reilly!) of the Senate sub-committee on "Extremely Dangerous Free Form Thinking On The Inter-net", and it's sister committee "Regulation of Virtual Internet Markets", I am calling this special board meeting so that we may go over company strategy...From this point forward we will need to remain vigilant in our quest for complete irreverance, lack of sanctity, and total disregard for political correctness..got it? (Queenie...get that translated into un-decipherable legalese - won't you please?) It is imperative that we adhere to the principles set forth in our "Girl on a Mission" statement. Y'all remember that, right? Ya know? Where "we here at VCE believe that it is our duty to the patrons of internet soundboards, to provide each and every desiring participant, the opportunity to engage in a free exchange of only the "highest" and "best" of what it is that virtual coffee and friendship has to offer." Remember? Good. So, as we endure the microscope of "Big Brother's" observation ...know no fear! We need not be ashamed my fellow VCE officers. It is they who need to be afraid...very afraid..of what it is that this video tape contains..and, what it is that weekend represents to their paradigm! We will not sit placidly awaiting their crucifixion, stigmatization or any other quasi-religious term that may apply here. Nay, sayeth VCE! We are one, and we are family! So, Doc fret not about skeletons in the closet..Bill-fear no straight jacket... (except the Gucci one..no way to find a pair of shoes that goes with that one!)...we are about to turn the tables and take matters into our own hands! The best defense remains..a good offense...and we have the talent, the wit, and the lack of good sense to be as offensive as anybody can stand!!!LMAO+TFF-lol-your faithful and somewhat clueless CEO - dj
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| gsxrqueen's comment posted October 25th @ 7:30 AM:
Well said Chief I'll have the legalese done in no time....after Ive finished with the logorithms & brushed up the staff handbook!
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| girl-on-a-mission's comment posted October 25th @ 9:41 AM:
Sorry to be late *breathless* Woke up to NO INTERNET this morning!!! OMG!!! I'm nearly recovered from the shock - but running terribly behind on my morning deliveries and such... Ok - so I see we are getting back to business and all seems semi-righted since yesterday... I'm still very concerned about the backups of that damn party tape... Geez! One wild party and my reputation may be in severe danger... I was seriously thinking of putting a call in to the lawyer Blackacre to save me (or at least hold my hand) and to the King to beg for some intervention, if our kind and powerful VCE-man couldn't settle the issue! I have fun and games to attend to and the tape thing is a big distraction. There's coffee to be served and pastries to deliver and music to promote and OMG my to do list is reads like the prep list for a record release party!!! Glad to see Queenie is hot on the staff handbook and the legalese for our PR statements and such... what a relief... now back to my regularly scheduled fun! :) |
| Drlunk's comment posted October 25th @ 10:00 AM:
My dear friends and partners, I'm very touched that a board meeting was held here in Bargersville, but I wish someone would have given me advanced notice. I was up so late delivering Budapest BlisterBomb to you all, that my being late was unavoidable. And my embarrassment in walking into the conference room in my bathrob and green knit booties(knitted by my mother 20 years ago) will not soon pass. I am in complete sympatico sync with dj's words and can only add "Huzzaa!" |
| Manouche's comment posted August 29th @ 10:22 AM:
Sheer genius, this post is. And I'm not just saying that because I'm the purpetrator of the aforementioned CD, Song of the Day Cafe. To those of you who heeded the good Docktor Lunk's advice and purchased the CD, I am forever and humbly grateful. And to the Docktor hisself for giving me a promo, consider my hands press'd together and body engaged in a permanent bow-to-Mecca-esque gesture of appreciation in your general direction for the duration ... er, sumsuch. Well, art is art, innit? Still, on the other hand, water is water! And east is east and west is west ... and if you take cranberries and stew them like applesauce, they taste much more like prunes than rhubarb does.
Love, kisses, and a laurel and hearty handclasp ... xo
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