The wait: a comedy devine

31 07 2005

There are certain things that a buttock will react to unfavorably and one of them, cialis sales cialis according to the International Society for Buttocks Preservation Handbook, sovaldi is sitting on broken glass. Unfortunately, remedy the handbook makes no mention of specific distinctions between glass types. No charts or graphs to indicate which will slice and dice with more enthusiasm: a beer bottle, a Snapple, or the smashed up face of a Rolex.

SIDENOTE: Now there’s an experiment in the making…

Anyways. Glass. Doesn’t matter if it’s dirty, pissed on, downtrodden, beat, busted up and broke. It’s all bad. It’s why the word ’shard’ has a sharp enough sound to make a muscle twitch and go hide behind its mother’s skirts.

Esther, my smart companion on this day, is obviously an avid reader of the buttocks handbook, and keenly attuned to the potential threat of lurking glass. I watch as she sensibly brushes the ground glass-free with her MacGyvered broom (a craggy stick), before laying down her end of the towel.

‘That’s probably a good idea,’ I think.

‘I’ll second that!’

That was my buttock chiming in. It has a somewhat selfish interest in the outcome. Question is, will I have the fortitude to wrestle my laziness to the earth and follow Esther’s example?


My brain has a mind of its own. (Huh? Weird). It turns into a slithery witch and begins to tell me porky pies.

“It’s Central Park,” it cackles. “As if there’s broken glass here. Here, under this majestic fairytale tree. Oh, heavenly tree, mystical and wise. Oh, tree of ample branch and shade-providing leaf. Look, a squirrel to bring you cocktails! Oh Noodle, as if broken glass would dare reside under the Zen-like aura of this tree!”

Solid argument.

Thus verily and with much aplomb I ignore Esther’s example and angle my rump ground-ward. If there is glass, I reason, I’ll find out fairly quickly.

I feel no immediate shard. I feel no slice or carve. Nothing. And for now, the sticks under-arse are only mildly irritating. It seems I have escaped unscathed.

End Act 1. Read the rest of this entry »

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