dead leaves and my dirty bed
sometimes i don't like going directly home after the bars. sometimes, while heavily intoxicated, i like to enjoy outdoor activites by myself, late at night, when no one is around to ask silly questions like "why?" and "what the hell?" and "what you talkin' bout Gillis?"
last night i was in the mood for some rolling-around-in-a-pile-of-leaves action, mostly because i like the smell.
there aren't many backyards in my area, so i had to create my own leaf pile at the bottom of the grassy hill by the Electropolis graffiti wall. if i was going to assault these leaves i wanted to do it in an elaborate way. so i rolled. down the hill and through the leaves. several times. covering my clothes in leafy goodness and a little mud. and i ended up losing my keys.
but that's not important.
what's important is the crazy dream i had immediately afterwards.
i dreamt i was in a massive field on a sunny autumn afternoon, assigned the duty of gathering fallen leaves, armed with a high powered leaf blower. the problem was that i had no idea how to operate the leaf blower. adding to this i had no idea who i was gathering leaves for and had no one to ask leaf blower operational type questions to.
then, out of absolutely nowhere, appeared Frank Zappa.
he carried with him some kind of heavily modified guitar and was wearing a portable amplifier on his back. at the head of the guitar, portruding from where the tuning keys should be, were several rake-like prongs. Mr. Zappa then hit a switch on his amplifier/backpack and, holding the guitar upside down but still playing it somehow, proceeded to rake. the prongs must have been wired thru the pickups, because with each rake an incredible squall of guitar feedback would screech from his backpack (which was not unlike a Ghostbuster's backpack). so he kept raking and playing, wringing this insane music from his musical-landscaping-instrument, and no matter how far away he got i could still hear it loud and clear, like through a brand spankin' set of shiny new headphones.
when i woke up there was mud in my bed because there was mud on my jeans because i slept in my clothes.
on my way to breakfast i stopped by the hill to look for my keys, and luckily i found them right away.
because keys cost money people.
last night i was in the mood for some rolling-around-in-a-pile-of-leaves action, mostly because i like the smell.
there aren't many backyards in my area, so i had to create my own leaf pile at the bottom of the grassy hill by the Electropolis graffiti wall. if i was going to assault these leaves i wanted to do it in an elaborate way. so i rolled. down the hill and through the leaves. several times. covering my clothes in leafy goodness and a little mud. and i ended up losing my keys.
but that's not important.
what's important is the crazy dream i had immediately afterwards.
i dreamt i was in a massive field on a sunny autumn afternoon, assigned the duty of gathering fallen leaves, armed with a high powered leaf blower. the problem was that i had no idea how to operate the leaf blower. adding to this i had no idea who i was gathering leaves for and had no one to ask leaf blower operational type questions to.
then, out of absolutely nowhere, appeared Frank Zappa.
he carried with him some kind of heavily modified guitar and was wearing a portable amplifier on his back. at the head of the guitar, portruding from where the tuning keys should be, were several rake-like prongs. Mr. Zappa then hit a switch on his amplifier/backpack and, holding the guitar upside down but still playing it somehow, proceeded to rake. the prongs must have been wired thru the pickups, because with each rake an incredible squall of guitar feedback would screech from his backpack (which was not unlike a Ghostbuster's backpack). so he kept raking and playing, wringing this insane music from his musical-landscaping-instrument, and no matter how far away he got i could still hear it loud and clear, like through a brand spankin' set of shiny new headphones.
when i woke up there was mud in my bed because there was mud on my jeans because i slept in my clothes.
on my way to breakfast i stopped by the hill to look for my keys, and luckily i found them right away.
because keys cost money people.
posted by mike | 4:55 PM
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