Singing Frogs, The Flat Earth Society and Dr. Mengele

I have not posted in quite some time. It’s been terribly irresponsible of me, I know. It’s just that I have been so busy making new discoveries and generally adding to the vast and great knowledge of the human race. While I have been gone from Blogland for several weeks now you can hardly begrudge me the absence. Hey, come on now, no begrudging, be nice. Really, I’ve been making such amazing discoveries, we’ll all be the better for it. Mankind itself will be better for it! And you can trust me on this, I mean it’s not like I’m some kind of unreliable flack or something. Certainly not like those people who start blogs and then abandon them without warning. No siree, that’s not me, I’m trustworthy and reliable, just like the local weather man, er…person Buying this yet? I hope so ‘cause I’m running out of paper thin lies here. I used most of the good ones up earlier in the day when the windows needed washing.

Anyway, as I was saying, my great discovery…

Drum roll please---

THE EARTH IS FLAT

I know, I know, you’re shocked, I was too quite frankly but, flat is it is. Sure all the usual questions came up. The NASA photos, the Big Blue Marble and all that. That bologna with Columbus and all. Poppycock, all of it! They’ve been lying to us all this time. And I know a thing or two about big fat lies, let me tell you. I mean…anyway I know the Earth is flat because I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Seen it plain and square I tell ya!

I know this because I have been to the edge of the earth and fell directly off of it. That’s right, I fell right off the face of the earth and no one heard from me again. Well, until now that is. But that just shows my deep seated determination to get back to the land of blogging…or at least some place where I can get a decent latte’ for Gia’s sake! “There be monsters here” HA! What there be is a deplorable lack of decent caffeine service. I’m out there on a dingy street corner trying to score a five finger bag of bean from some scuzz ball named Squeaky just so I can get through my day without shooting some slow moving fool in the checkout line at Wal-Mart before running them down repeatedly with my shopping cart. Desperation is not pretty my friends. Not pretty indeed.

Then once I got back from my unplanned trip to the ends of the earth and the nether regions of No Caffeine Land I went to see my dentist, Dr. Mengele. He was expecting me. I had a recent series of unfortunate teeth events that made our little get together unavoidable. I broke two teeth on a bone hidden in a dish of BBQ pork. One tooth broke a chip off and cracked upward, the other broke a whole chunk out and right up to the bone. Dr. Mengele is a dear man, and an enthusiastic dentist. Why, he looked positively euphoric when he found out that he would have me in his chair for three whole hours. Just him and all his sharp pointy tools in a tiny sound proof room. He smiled warmly at me when I made the appointment and said he was looking forward to it. It was kind of an awkward moment.

Well the day came, and the long hours in the chair passed one excruciating second after another excruciating second. Hours full of seconds which dragged on into infinity as man’s inhumanity to man is performed in a white lab coat beneath cheesy pictures tacked to the ceiling and the caterwauling “played only on KKJgagmewithaspoonFM” battled it out with the sound of drills and inane conversation about yesterday’s lunch menue hammered my eardrums. Tiny cords soaked in icky tasting stop your gums from bleeding chemicals were wrapped around my teeth. Trays of soft rancid tasting saltwater taffy were jammed into my mouth and wads of cotton soaked in the icky tasting stop your gums from bleeding chemicals were clamped down on releasing a mouthwatering joy fest such as I’ve not experienced before. Molds were made, things were drilled both inside and outside my head. Teams of Caterpillar operators were directed to the inside my mouth to hold marketing demonstrations and sales expos. Dr. Mengele picked up an new track hoe for his home garden. It was a lovely shade of green. A small group of second graders were brought in on a field trip and picnicked by the back left molars. I don’t think I’d have them in again. They left quite a mess and the Frisbee game was a bit much. It kept hitting the back of my front teeth.

All in all it was a lovely day and a pleasant experience.

When I got home the Saint and I decided to go out the Olive Garden for some soothing minestrone soup and some spinach artichoke dip. Love that stuff! And I figured it was the only thing I could still trick my mouth into opening up for and failing that, could be sucked through a straw. So off we went. As we arrived in the parking lot something was burning my eye. Nothing had gotten into my eye on the drive, it was just burning. You know, the way it will when a tiny invisible blow torch is on it or a hot iron poker…well, you get the point. When we sat down I ordered a glass of ice water and a morphine drip. Our waiter What’s-his-name, I couldn’t see his name tag by this time, brought the ice bath and said he had a call into his cousin, Squeaky. Mr. Squeaky was quite the entrepreneur. I made sure to tell What’s-his-name Squeaky and I went way back.

I toughed it out through a brief dinner dousing the flames shooting out of my eye with pitchers of ice water brought by our waiter What’s-his-name. By the time we got home—

I WAS BLIND.

Well look at the word count! I’m going to have to wrap this up in the next post. I know I’ve been gone awhile. It was an unplanned absence and I apologize for that. As it turns out it is extremely difficult to blog post when you have fallen off the face of the earth and harder still when you’re blind.

I will be back to post soon. The frogs are singing in the ponds, the birds are flocking in the garden, the tulips are priming for color and Praline and Garvin are making daily visits to the pond. Oh, those are the ducks’ names now. Praline, is for a current choice of latte` flavoring and Garvin, is for “Fred Garvin, male prostitute,” of 1970s SNL fame.