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Smallpox Simperings And Other Salubrious Situations

2002-05-21 - 1:25 p.m.

. . .crinkle. . .

. . .crinkle . . .crackle. . .

. . .cracklecrinklecrackle . . .

. . . . . . .*POP*!

Whew! Finally! Broke free from the evil Jiffy Pop container of schoolwork, stressvilles, and slugworths that were jailing me! Fear not good people, I am back and only slightly better than before! Ok then. . .

So it seems things first started to derail last Thursday. There I am, minding my own business, eating Lindt chocolate (which I now have to eat double my share, ever since Kate "4 Corners 4 Eva" Bedford[*] took her leave of the Wallakers), and watching ER. This is right after I had walked in, for like the 30th Thursday in a row to have Ben "shocked" that I'd "need the TV on a Thursday at 10". And, despite watching 85% of the season with me, Ben decides to go to bed after I rudely tell him "Shut Clerks off because it's Smallpox time baby!" Although, on second thought, I probably didn't say "baby". So I watched ER and kind of felt like Kerri (that's "Dr. Weaver" to you!) the whole time. Not to say that I felt like a red-headed, handicapped, Lesbian, but just like Kerri was stuck outside County General trying unsuccessfully to get inside and help stop the smallpox outbreak, I too felt helpless as the raging lustohoropheromones were glowing off of Carter and Abby, about to burst, and there was not one damn thing I could do about it. Poor Luka. Stupid ER writers.

ER Writer #1: "Well, we're gonna fuck over Luka here . . .hmmmmm, well, we can always have him beat up some rioting patients!"

ER Writer #2: "I dooon't knoooow Zorak, haven't we pretty much had Luka beat people up for the last 2 seasons?"

ER Writer #3: "We had him talking with that Bishop who was the farmer in Babe."

ER Writer #1: "I liked Babe."

ER Writer #2: "The duck made me laugh."

ER Writer #1: "So who's for Luka smashy smashy?!"

In unison - All ER Writers: "YEAH!!!!!"

Oh, but then off come the Disease Control masks, and out come the ice packs. . . and then Abby and Carter make like monkeys - super sexed-up monkeys - on a gurney and make out.

[A guy saves Chicago from a deadly air-borne virus and it's "Goodbye Clothes, Hello Carter!"]

Then came the weekend. Friday was ok in the fact that I had to work all night and did nothing that night. Fun. Well, I did spend most of Friday making "Inez", Brad's own personal cross-dressing buffalo action figure. So there was that. Then came Saturday, which, as has been reported in The Sun and Weekly World News, well, didn't really suck that much. Saturday night, -after a hellish, freakish snow/rainstorm, and millions of little kids who I wanted to impale on the devil sticks I was working so diligently on mastering- actually redeemed itself in the guise of getting Olive Garden take-out after work (and almost killing a rabbit in the process) with Danielle (despite FRM security stalking us). Afterwards, I was surprised to find Ben, of Ben "I'm going down to Tim's for an 'insane South American' party with all sorts of zany hi-jinx Saturday Night" Walden still hangin' at da New Meadows and playing The Sims until the cows (or in Inez's case, the buffalo) came home. So I threw him some jalapenos and he went off to bed. At almost TWO. SO it wasn't until then that I started burning CD's for my brother (who I would see the next day) and knowing I had to get up at 7:30 to get ready to meet my mother. So were my mother and Sabby late Sunday morning? Is a bear Catholic? Of course they were. But it only gave me more time to ready Brad's "super-cool-I'm-sorry-I-couldn't-come-to-your-graduation . . .again" presents, which were, as I stated, the gloriousness that is Inez, and that Heartless Clam-Slayer himself: Brak! I was only sad that I couldn't have whipped up some sort up "Super-Surfing-Action Thundercleese" for him as well.

"Three Hams will kill him!"

So my mother and Sabby finally got here Sunday morning, and off we went. As usual, it was a harrowing experience, as my mother drives like she only has enough tokens left to go around one more lap at the Weirs Go-Karts. On this ride home, not only did they inform me that my Aunt Linda seems to think I have *a drinking problem* ("So Zach . . .he likes the alcohol" she was quoted as saying at Brad's graduation party the day before) and has absolutely no basis for thinking such things, but I can't imagine her perceptions were altered very much when Sabby, as she continued to inform me, mentioned my "puke ramps". Luckily, few really got the reference. But Sabby did manage to mention IN FRONT OF MY MOTHER, about how she "read about the puke ramps on [my] computer thing". Luckily, I think my mother was too wrapped up in trying to do wheelies in the breakdown lane that she didn't even know what "computer thing" we were talking about. But what I DID tell my mother, and what Sabby already knew about, was about my little Open Container Snafu. My mother couldn't really have cared less. The only annoying part was that she kept going around saying "I can't believe you got caught for OCL!" To which I kept saying, "Stop calling it that, it makes it sound like I have a disease where I need to keep washing my hands, just SAY OPEN CONTAINER." "Zach, I work in the courts, that's how 'we' say it, Open Container Law." Sigh. I'm sure Aunt Linda will only be proven right when she hears of my scandalous case of OCL.

Ok, I'm putting on new typing gloves for a second. . .ok then. Seeing my brother Scott and my niece Britney was fun. I couldn't believe it had been since last June since I had seen either of them. We (Nanny, Don, my mother, Scott, Britney, and I) all had Texas Burgers out on the deck, which could have standed to be a few degrees warmer. Britney, making *exactly* like she did last June, took the corner into the house too fast and totally bit it and knocked the plant over. I saw the whole thing and laughed. But she was ok, and hopefully, will do it again next year right on schedule. I was very happy to find out Brit has AIM, and now that I have her screen name, I will get to talk to her much, much more than I have been. Of course, I haven't met ONE PERSON yet who didn't like Spider-Man, so it came as no surprise to me that Scott was "disappointed in it". I told him "we shouldn't even fucking discuss this, since I will just get fucking pissed and want to get in a fucking argument." And then I said "fuck" a few times. But I wasn't really mad, to each his own I guess. No, it was all fine, but of course he liked Star Wars more. For the Love of Pete(r Parker), even Fred admitted to me that he liked Spidey (and that must have hurt his soul so much that he cried maggots). Scott can try it out again on DVD and get back to me - But anyway. . .

Conner came over to my mom's Sunday night and we tried to watch so much TV at the same time that our collective heads exploded. C-Slop and I tried to watch Simpsons Season Finale (which I found to be sub-par), AND the Celtics game, AND the Survivor Season Finale, AND the last X-Files, AND the Practice Season Finale, AND the Cosby Show reunion, AND Adult Swim. Of course, by Adult Swim, Conner was out cold and Brad showed up not too long after. We were scared to wake up the sleeping dragon that is Conner, but Brad was brave and shook his knees until he woke up.

Monday saw Brad and I driving down to Dover. My mother ditched us at the police station in Tilton, and Brad replied with the Nanny-esque "Don't talk like that!" to just about EVERYTHING I said. He also, when I tripped in the mall parking lot, called everyone's attention by yelling "DID ANYONE JUST SEE THAT?!?!" But it was all worth it in order to have this monstrously huge woman in an electric cart come barreling at us, not once, but TWICE and Brad and I totally losing it. That and him activating what had to be the LOUDEST keyboard demo I have ever heard (which played the Mission: Impossible Theme to boot) and not letting me stop it, and instead being forced to both flee Best Buy as it got louder and louder. And then of course, there was the Chinese Woman with her fake baby that she kept using in order to have an excuse to a.) not clear tables, and b.) not be a "ball of excitement".

SO yes. In just a few short words. That was the last few days. I still want to go see Robbie Krieger and I still have done nothing about it. I still have to go to my "OCL" court date next Wednesday and pay lots of money I do not have. I hope Paul E. Burton is there. I'd like to piss on him. I haven't done that in ages.

Oh yes. Bike Week. Getting closer and closer. And yet, it seems as plans keep falling apart more and more as we approach it. Yes, Browher and KP are having their Grad School Graduation Super Parties, but it seems many of the faithful have expressed reservations about the actual act of goin' to the "Wei-ahs" and the tents, and the loudness, et al. The scary thing is, I'm not too sure that I blame them. But, like I said, in my effort to showcase the Boromir-esque boobery that is Bike Week, I will leave with this closing shot of what appears to be a man and his wolf . . .just enjoying the Weirs and all it has to offer . . .

[Atreyu and Gamork decide to get down and par-tay!]

It's been real,

Bingo Long

[*] - "I resent being associated with 'Four Corners' as I DO NOT live there and want this farce to end now!" - Kate "Give me Fresca or give me death" Bedford

ps - Kate does not live in Gilmanton Four Corners, I apologize for the error.

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