Butthair & Seven: Episode III

More ramblings by: King Stahome

Whatever searching I did that night, all I ended up with at the end was four words. And it’s funny, because all the events leading up to the grand unveiling of these ominous four words were taxing me to the point of near collapse. Grave robbing. Serious vandalism. Desecration of the elderly. Total spiritual deprevity. And all to reveal what? A giant let down if you ask me. Because when the shit came to a boil and we had to take the kettle off the burner, all I was left with was the four damned words I, for some reason, wrote on the bottom of Seven's left foot...

DON'T TRUST THE KETCHUP.

****

I never should have eaten that man.

Ate what

What?

thooooooose

oh.....hmmmmmm

You feel that?

What?

I feel sweaty.

What?

SWEATY FUCKINGODDAMMIT!!

All right man!

...

Hey dickey.

Huh.

Did you ever wonder what the difference between a seed and a nut was?

heh heh... no.

uhhh.

You don't eat seeds man.

yuh huh, sunflowers man.

I mean, no, what?

Suns?

I never should have eaten those, man.

*********************************************************

All right, hold on, I got to get a beer....

Ok. Its my turn. The time has come, the ship has sailed, the shoe is on the other foot, the shit has hit the fan, and the other foot, the one without the shoe, has finally dropped.

Here the show begins, and as previously mentioned, it so happens that I have only one shoe on. Sloppy has done it again. He does it about twice a year, and it is so out of hand for us both that i would rather him drink a quart of Clorox than to try this ridiculous experiment in deliberate masochism.

I am speaking of the twice a year when the asshole jumps on the wagon. picture a week of the “Dee – Tee’s”, coupled with an asshole that feels so sorry for himself that he is trying anyway he can to rid himself of the grief that twenty seven years of alcoholism has begot him, and you'll have what wagon week is at Seven's House. It got so bad last time that i had to put ol' Sloppy in a hospital...

*****

It seems this time I’ve really done it. The nurse tells me that I’ve done some serious damage to some organs that seem to have official business with the task of keeping the rest of me alive. They tell me I’ve been asleep for four days now, and with the intense throbbing in my belly, I am wishing that I could spend several more days sleeping.

I don't remember precisely what got me in here, but I know a large bowie knife was involved. I recall said bowie knife being attached to a largish Mick with a damn lovely piece of ass that I seem to have been prying loose of him. Obviously this Mick was quite fond of this particular piece of ass, and decided that the proper reaction to my action was to plunge his family heir loom of a blade deep inside me. (I say family heir loom because of the several types of animal infections I got off this particular piece of steel.)

Anyway, I have been in the hospital for five weeks now, fighting off infection after infection, without the ability to even sit up.

The entirety of my day consists of staring at the ceiling, and waiting for seven to come in and give me some company. I’m still waiting for seven to come in and give me company.

The one part of my day that does bring me some light is my roommate. he is in the same sort of condition as me, but once a day, for a half an hour, he is able to sit up and look out the window. He tells me our window has quite a view. he tells me of the park across the street and the lovely young couples walking around. There is also a commons where mimes and street musicians perform. Behind all that there is a magnificent view of the skyline, and in certain types of weather, the sun reflects off of the buildings in such a way as to make them seem almost illusory, as if they were nothing but a dream.

It got to be that the highlight of my day was listening to this man tell me in such elaborate description what was going on outside.

I'd just close my eyes and imagine what he was describing and letting it come to life in my head.

Then last Wednesday, or maybe it was Tuesday, i can't remember which, I woke up to see the doctors trying feverishly to revive this man. Long to short the man didn't make it. He died of whatever was ailing him, and the doctors said it was just his time to go. The nice thing was that they repositioned my bed next to that window.

The first chance I was able to I forced myself up to an elbow and craned my neck as far as it would reach to see what was happening in the world outside the window. Could you imagine my surprise when I saw half a brick wall and a roof top?

I asked the nurse if she had switched my room while I was asleep, but she said no, it was against policy. I asked her how the man next to me could have described in such detail what was going on out side and she told me he was blind.

I was touched by the encouragement that man gave me. And as soon as I got out of the hospital, I got really drunk and slept with that guy's doctor's wife. This all goes to show that even a blind man can have a positive influence on a man who is looking to get laid by some rich cunt.

Stay tuned.

Posted by Matt Niemi at September 15, 2005 10:56 AM