Wednesday, May 18, 2022

Helping Folks Get Back on Their Feet.

 










One or another of us has been asked about our resemblance to a premier individual who also happens to be deceased. We take turns trying, usually without much luck, to make our lines stick. In the end, we are politely asked to vacate the facility. With our blackened hands still wet, we walk to the next exit and have it out with one who's still on duty. It seems there was a problem with his ability to swallow stolen hair and then keep it down. My speciality was to bring numbers forward on a springboard pallet and then attempt to make my voice heard over the lionized commotion. If it weren't for the quick thinking of a woman I'd only gone out with once or twice, I'm afraid we might've been nailed right then and there.



The part where we cut one of them in half always seems to be a crowd pleaser. What they don't know is that if any one of us hadn't gone undercover to take a hike in the other guy's shoes, you'd be looking at a very different, if well turned out, Executive Vice Associate. Not that anyone has anything over which to cry into their spilt milk. Far from it, in fact. I'm looking at YOU, Walter Birshup Jr. Far be it from any of us to donate a very large box in the name of a transitional parking magnate, but, if this seems like just another excuse to slip into a comfortable outfit, climb a tower, hoist a brewski and have it out with a remedial reaction fomenter, then it might do you good to get into a safe space from which to draw up plans for our firm's thirty-fifth anti-diversity shindig. Eventually, I'd be willing to crawl through the skylight and surprise the diners with a triple whammy in the form of a curving swath of unguarded pellet gum.



The terms were all set while our mouths resumed the 'open' position. A woman in a beige caftan appeared from a door in the back of the room and immediately returned to her place in line where, until then, a gentleman claiming to have known her Father before the War, had been amusing some of the infant brides with the sullen way he pronounced a very particular vowel. Once I got through with her, there was no denying that her cord had been pulled. I peered into an opening and, with the scant illlumination still available, began to read aloud from a prepared statement to the effect that I had agreed to take full responsibility for the actions of others who I'd never met and whose identities were an all but foregone conclusion. In reply, I was presented with a very soft, if empty, envelope. Once I regained control of my faculties, it seemed that I was left alone and unaccounted for in a medium sized city in the Northeastern quadrant of the Southern Mid-west. I took to my new home like a fish under a watery dome. I finally came into my own as a dimesmith, got married by default and adopted the ways of a livid market flop. This is all about helping people get back on their feet.



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Wednesday, May 11, 2022

It's only a matter of time . . . ......

 









We've only had one small face appear on our diskette in the three years that our lives were, quite literally, on the line. I'd take two of the substances with the worst solubilities and then rank them according to their applied muting characteristics. At the end, every other face would no longer be a factor in our vanity lounge roster of independent stanchons. Even the tiniest trim is nothing compared to the movement we observe when our band is favored for its rogue-tinged perfiguity. The pitiful combatants appear one after the other, which more than makes up for a puzzle in the form of a knocked out 8-beam. It troubles me to say it but, what is it about people in your position which makes it so hard to form a concrete description of a stranger's deadpan chatter?



When we're in the throes of something basic but still charted, it gets us to wonder if this is all that we asked to be concealed in the first place. During my time underwater, anyone who still fought a dues increase could usually be seen from the roof of a very tall building trying to prevent their hands from being scalded while those around them never betrayed even an inkling of the defeatism for which they are so very widely renowned. As a Chaplain, it's always been my practice to withhold payment until your average woman asks me to re-arrange a wall plot in another bum's name. This way, any of us who crave a career in the iron trades would no longer have to flag down a service car and do double duty as an icy pitch salesman leads the way. Please don't go getting any ideas which haven't yet been approved for distribution to underage violators.


The skeleton which is so widely declared to be taking up space in my third closet is the closest we've come so far to a discovery which may one day make the journals. If the wind is just right, a person who's just arrived from an overseas mitzvah could have you looking like a spare duckling unless those doing the feeding take you on as a student-in-best-interest. A gabled vehicle is parked in a vaseline solution which sticks to the trendline in every way but the one which counts. This could get you thrown out of a very classy affair, or, you might be able to come to a reasonable decision on your own. In case a wily runt speaks out of turn, our only advice is to immediately turn out the offending light and then take a stroll through a woodsy area with a hint of flavor. When we tell you about people who claimed to have seen you embarrass yourself in a harness, it's only fair that you should go on living as if nothing of the kind could be further from the truth. If this sounds like some kind of game, then you've got some major explaining to do. Place your hands in a darkened room and count to one (1).


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Thursday, May 5, 2022

Justice for Our Temple Bathers!

 









It's high time that we give our temple bathers a break. They've been at it for going on six months or more and anyone who would have their precious security threatened will be hard pressed to donate a spare lamp to the Lincoln-Mercury Dealership here in town. I know what I ate, but at the time no one thought to tell me where or when I could ever hope to achieve closure on the big screen. Who is it profitable to lump all comparisons onto? It doesn't take much to irritate a person who marinates at the drop of a sanctified pin. This amounts to a terrific opportunity to have your scales washed clean of any precious signage. It's only because we break into pairs at the first notion of footsteps on a foregone veranda that anyone still prizes a motionless decanter under the moonlight on an auburn twill. This keeps us steady without the need for almond tourniquets. You have my birb.



There is a place on our team for people in need of weathered dumping gear, with all that implies. On the occasion of the 'first look', your typical noob will, quite literally, run in circles in search of even the barest assurance during times of frantic tunneling. A lace kerchief hung from a neighborhood fob could get you one to three if your behaviour meets the proximity test. We've all expressed doubts about your fitness to serve the finest Tyrolian suasages here in the Valley. Yes, it's something which often comes up in conversation. At this point, I usually take pains to get them to lie face-down in a newly dug pit when their knowledge of Roman numerals comes into play. What right does your average honcho have to see children as people too? It goes a long way to answer some of society's stickiest questions. For that I always turn to face in a Southerly direction, intone a prayer to Third Father and then manually alter my own DNA to achieve automatic membership in a newly desirable cohort. I never thought I'd hear myself say that. Just goes to show you how times have changed.



The bell in our riders' pale tincture will be struck at three-second intervals throughout the training nightmare. At the conclusion, a ticket to the blasted countryside will be awarded without even the slightest trace of irony. I am scheduled to leave in the morning. In the event of unanticipated delays, you are to wait poolside for the arrival of my French tutor, Danielle Berkowitz. She is in touch with all the files in your case. I picture her scowling into a waste basket at the conclusion of our most recent tête-a-tête. She has a knack for weaving improbable characters into water-born investigative units engaged throughout social dominance hierarchies. The first time we teamed up to tame an unnameable foe had lasting consequences for life in the Global South. She gave my anjectomy a run for its money in no time flat. Only in the case of the merest happenstance should you consider leafing through a booklet while I catch up on my shows. We'd love to have you over next week. Why the glum face?



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Sunday, May 1, 2022

MAYDAY! MAYDAY!

 










The weighted flares were all done up at my expense, even though I was never consulted, beyond a random comment uttered under the breath of someone in a toilet stall on the fifth floor. So, you can imagine how floored I was to discover that a lid had been placed on a container in an infamous parlor prior to a regular period for open discussion. There is a certain kind of trimming which you'll only find in the Far East during Holiday Season. Unfortunately, due to overwhelming demand, I was not to be cut free to pursue other interests in the neofatalogy cubicle. A conviction has circulated through the corridors of power that one of my former supervisors has misappropriated a severance package in order to have influence in a breakaway civilization. They'd prefer to pretend that it was something from a cheap sci-fi treatment of a George Wallington original screenplay. What I know to be true is that a person of meager means has taken control of one of my most trusted intubators. In light of subtle fame issues, all choice has been removed from our view of palliative cognition.



A descent of grace which has been foretold through multiple administrations, is now something which appears through a nightly cascade of dis-assembled table parts. The appearance of a medieval shield in the hands of one so young brings delight to the countenances of all who stand regularly expecting a signal from on high. I can tell by their postures that one or two of them refused to be fooled by the wiles of a master deceiver. If it would help, I can personally escort you into our deluxe crepuscule and see that your every whim is indulged; behind my back, if that's any help. If not, my friend's wife is anticipating at least four try-outs if a dark-haired accuser requires an adjustment. Flexibility is always our watchword. We yearn to participate in the boldest of schemes. When you search through a darkened warehouse for an errant envelope, please try to not give the impression of any desperation on your part. Otherwise, they might come to believe that we once knew each other before the War. No one is winning any prizes for not acting like a jerk, is all I'm trying to say.


We believe in our heart of hearts that the best moment to move into a drought-stricken area is just before a purpose built webbing machine is off-loaded as just another territorial blunder gone wrong. If you want, I could tell my kids that you once approached a sanctified imposter with the idea of having him put a proposal in writing for the benefit of the deaf community at large. You see, they have a hard time understanding why you stood by and seemed to take delight in a rather ungainly trio badmouthing a revered figure in their cohort. And, to be honest, it gave me the willies as well. Going forward, why hasn't anyone hidden behind a steel pole in the middle of the night while you slept peacefully, with no misgivings whatsoever? We think we know the answer to that. It (the answer) doesn't start with a letter. No. It starts with a number. Here's a clue: it's not a number which you've ever liked very much. And with very good reason, if I'm being fair.


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Saturday, April 23, 2022

Something Doesn't Add Up.

 









I can tell that some who have recently come under my wing have a newfound, if snarky, interest in the 'pain equation'. I counsel them through the vapid movements of my fingers over the tabletop which sometimes separates us. Try as we might, a threatening word, uttered with a calm, professional demeanor, is not always guaranteed to add up to an exculpatory episode. Instead, we are more than likely to escort them, by stealth if necessary, to a local pontoon factory, where the manager, whose son is married to my niece's oncologist's chauffeur, will make every effort to do a little number on their confidence. Before you know it, they're eating quite happily out of both of our soiled hands. And, just who do you think we have to thank for this state of affairs? It's a person who's well known in the community of survivors of the Jonestown Massacre. His name is Harvey Fish. He's a Kaplan Scholar, a master chef in Roumanian cuisine and enjoys bowling on those rare weekends when he feels the need to return one or two items he stole from my parents' most recent houseguest.



They say that it will take on a dull umber sheen before even the first person thinks to inquire about the value of an alternative high school education. Closer to the moment of no reports, a standing order to an over-compensated vagabond is sure to elicit not a few comments and raise all sorts of uncomfortable questions from the peanut gallery writ large. I will only have myself to blame if anyone from down below thinks it wise to interpret hazardous chemical spills as a sign from the Almighty. If you put two of them alone together in a room with enough sound baffling, making sure that sufficient funds are provided to set them up in a forgotten estuary or two, you'd be surprised what kind of result you'll fail to see. The reason is that some of them operate only after a state of darkness has prevailed over one and all. Further, if all your bounties are tied up in corporate boosterism, how could you ever believe that a random shooting would scare away some of our most fanatical supporters?


One baleful glance is all it usually takes to cause those on the rim to delay their approval of an eminently coercive mealplan from being adopted campus-wide. It seems that more than one of their advisees is on the take and the only sense we can make of it amounts to a piddling lack of results overall. I am constantly on the alert for invasive spores on my dining room divan. Because, if one should get lodged in a sensitive location, a visit to Border Control is mandatory. You are asked to bring six or seven bundles wrapped in burlap into a non-obvious pageant trap. I will be there to guide you every step of the way. Without my wife on hand to provide a baffling non-sequitur or two, we should be good to go in about three or four hours at best. At worst, my head person will tap you lightly on the back of your head and inquire as to your involvement with a precision road crew. If you can cough up the goods, we may be able to go lightly on your Father's tree surgeon. Please don't ask us about this ever again. Then make amends. It won't hurt.  Promise?

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Tuesday, April 19, 2022

Please Oppose an Unbuilt Bridge.

 









Over our painful toes he would keep watch. Some would even call it a 'vigil'. So, yes, he'd keep a roughly nightly vigil over our toes waiting for some, or any, indication of movement. Later he would aver that what he was really watching for was a kind of 'sign'. Not the kind that you might see in a store window. No, the other kind. The kind that could make you think that one or another event is likely. At least in the interim, if not before.



And this went on for months. He would arrive at the oddest times. Times in which we could ill afford to be affable, bland, cooperative—even a little bit teed off! He'd come in wearing his special shirt. The one which helped him appear in a new light. We weren't fooled, though. Even though he'd renounced the religion of his debauched parents. The lineage is sealed. And with that went all the world's Gnostic pretensions. You can't have it both ways. They go up and they go down all over again; but they still won't seek their own level. Now we're in it for real. You can have one too if you'd like. Who's counting?



No one is about to blame a stranger for not condoning multiple felonies in the third degree. To the extent that I've managed to pull one over on the least among us, there won't be any tears when a hole appears as if out of nowhere. In case anyone is curious, it seems to be a slow-motion scorched earth policy in spades. A precious little hanky is all we have to show for our efforts at the misdirection of improbable elites. The minions can all go to Hell. I've got my sights on the big boys. They won't tell you, but I just did. It hurts like heck to say it but, how out of the ordinary does a situation have to get before everything gets backed up into a new iteration? You'd have thought that we said something awful. We became our own personal pin cushion, in a manner of speaking. Before I'm set to go inside someone's hut, there's a few things we need to get straight:

  • 'Drainage mode' will spread panic far and wide.
  • A temple on a hill should be enough to leave our sponsors begging.
  • Soporific tension can lift your average Waloon into a position of bastardized power. (and finally)
  • What sense do you think it makes to take us into a show without access to a premium gondolum?

This is only the beginning. From here on you need to be on guard for leaks of sensitive particles. There isn't much time left. Be sure to attend our meeting tomorrow morning at 8:75 AM. Please bring a malleable, if cherished, object of scorn. Planet.



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Wednesday, April 13, 2022

Nothing Could Be Further!

 







All four of us have been guaranteed a spot. Except for Jeremy, each has been given to understand that our diverse methods of operation have real-world consequences. It doesn't surprise me in the least to see them bail at the last minute. As ever, I'm left holding a suspicious package. It has my name all over it and now I'm due in town for a weekend seminar. There's a certain chair which I won't let go of no matter what. We've left a total of six people stranded at various points unknown even while I knocked myself out to provide a chewy concoction to keep arms at the ready should anyone get the better of a charming grifter from down the way. The only time I looked into a surgical solution was when a patently false allegation was bandied to and fro without any regard for the feelings of younger criminals the world over. What has anyone got to show for putting in their time in the Long Carabine?



No one ever stands still while I insert a wooden ruler into an Old Wisconsin Set and hope to be noticed in the throng outside the Police Station. I can tell by the way everyone avoids looking at my feet that trouble is brewing in Tinsel Town. Words were had and plans were made, but, before I could start searching in earnest, a barely implicit notification was made very real in the lives of millions of ingrates from coast to coast. I did my time in a call center. Those are years I'll never get back. But if one of the inchoate seamstresses who like to brawl in my absence are detained in an elementary school just a few blocks away, can I be blamed for trying to get involved in planning session or two? You have my word that I'm loving this as much as the next Average Joe, but when it comes to making myself scarce for random moments throughout the duration, I like to keep well insulated from a melee of judgmental peckerwoods. They've been charged more than once with damaging my 'special' hat. It's even rumored that they were put up to it by Ted Seibert. The only problem is, he's been dead since before my parents consolidated their bastion. This should provide at least some context as to why I love you so much.



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