Fabrication

After the fact, anything is possible. You reinvent a character or pass him/her along to Disney. My playing-field is populated with a host of unusual characters. I don't invent them, I'm merely among them. On a good day, the voices don't distract me. Recently, at the pub, Aaron asked if I was getting laid. No, I told him, I was recovering from a string of failures, and was rethinking my position. He seemed to think it was necessary to be sexually active to know that you were alive. Oh, the phone is dead, and given their track record, this could take a while. I'll try and spot the problem tomorrow, but these guys won't want to repair anything until they're on overtime. Sidetracked by a couple of Mexican recipes that used lizard meat. The Hellbender (up to 27 inches) salamander frequents the Kentucky streams just across the river. They're like small vicious alligators. I track down a raft of other recipes, using Mudpuppy and Gila Monsters. I didn't get out, to call the phone company, because I didn't want to leave home, too much going on. The butterflies are crazy, mostly working the green spread seeds that become tight sumac heads in the fall. And the blackberries are turning red. So much rain I think I should get a good harvest. The phone rings a couple of times, but it's just static, then it rings again. Maybe they're working on the line, they always call, to tell me that I'm reconnected. Reconnected, I have to laugh, I was never actually connected, so being reconnected is special for me. I get a plastic tag, to wear around my neck, and everyone treats me different. He's, you know, reconnected. I'll try to get to town and call Frontier. I've got to go to the DMV, then Progressive and pay vehicle insurance, get off the ridge for a few hours, actually see another human being. It's about time for a motel room, a good soak, and a movie on cable. Take-out Italian. I do love fried squid. I could take a day trip, but there's not anyplace I want to go. Maybe a fish shack over on the coast. Collect molluscs and make my famous limpet stew. Everyone gets a sterile safety pin, to dig out the periwinkles. Old-fashioned diaper pins are good for this, you can grip them very well, and a snail is a snail. Fetal rabbits are not meat, according to the Catholic Church, and who is the pope, after all, but another guy elected by his peers. Another bunch of greedy bastards. They've got this whole network, and a fortune, and they just blow off any sexual impropriety.You have to admire how easy it is to ignore reality.