all creatures great and small

Is it a problem that I'm boarderline too lazy/tired to eat? I really don't want to cook anything because I'm so tired from working a 10.5 hour day today, and the pajama pants that I sport so devilishly can't really be removed at this point to venture outside to pick something up. Plus, I just cracked open a Sam Adams Honey Brown, which can't be carried in toe as I scavenge for victuals. Unfortunately, because that would make my quests in life all that more interesting. Is it also wrong that I seem to always be drinking beer when I post? So many of life's questions must remain unanswered.

As I have no real "holy shit!" stories to tell tonight, nor have I gotten drunk since the weekend (always brimming with hilarity), I have to take this time to talk about side-quests I have experienced in the Final Fantasy style of life I have begun to lead (for those keeping score, I just reached level 16, defeated Ekinox in a dice game and acquired his fragment of the Canibite Stone... I keep my game ghetto...). Like the 7 collectible KFC chicken buckets sponsored by NASCAR (available for a limited time only), alone these anecdotes are pretty impressive. But together, they paint a true picture of who you are inside. In the case of the chicken buckets, probably an overweight Republican who probably also owns a "Big Mouth Billy Bass"... sitting regally above the aforementioned buckets, displayed with pride aloft the fireplace mantle. Presented in semi-chronological order...

Pray: Shortly after I moved into my room, I noted that around sunset, I could hear some noise wafting in through the window from the neighborhood around me. At first, I had no idea what it was and, originally, chalked it up to the large amount of drugs I've done in my day or, maybe, one of the voices I hear decided to go Broadway on me. But, as I listened closer, I realized that there must be a mosque nearby, because it was the Islamic call to prayer, signaling that the daily ritual had begun. It might not seem really significant to most, but for some reason, I actually think this is one of the coolest things that I've ever heard. I mean, I've been privy to a bevy of the religious wonders of other cultures (most notably Tibet, an experience I will never be able to describe), but I've never really been a part of something like this. Sure, I'm not Muslim, nor would I ever even begin to claim an understanding of their unique spiritual privileges. But, just by being privileged in my own right to hear something like this, it translates into a surreal sense of global unity, that all around the world, uncountable masses hear this call and find in themselves the same sense of awe inspiring simplicity of routine that I, too, find here, even as I, myself, am not a practitioner of the faith. Maybe this song resonates so powerfully at this moment because it is not happening in a realm outside my own. I was so in awe of the sights, sounds, and smells that I experienced in Tibet as a tourist wandering through the opaque surroundings of Buddhism. But this is something happening right outside my own door. It's more tangible simply by proximity. Or it might be that I haven't eaten anything yet tonight and I'm on beer number three as I write this.

The Great Mouse Detective: Sunday afternoon I was coming home on the train after a night of heavy substance consumption. As I was waiting for my train to arrive, I noticed a rat, foraging for food among the tracks. Granted, I was kind of stoned from my wake-n-bake session that morning (side note: a lot of my stories and revelations come when I'm under the influence... problem?). At that point I began, with lack of anything else to do, to ponder the life of a subway rat, and the adventures that he must have, and if he is even aware that his life is so out of the norm from most other sectors of life (save the other sewer rats he cavorts with). He ducked between ties, hopped one rail and squeezed underneath another. His paws felt out a path through the festering moisture of the track floor, stopped to ponder, and perhaps partake, of the perception of a particularly edible looking morsel of, what we would deem, detritus. After a few sniffs, he scampered off. Up. Under. And then he was gone... disappearing underneath the platform... off on another caper.

On the Train: I was on the train to work the other day, and, as routine dictated, we stopped at Jay Street, a change-over station to get onto the A line. Before I delve firmly into this story, I must preface with a disclaimer, or rather, question: have you ever experienced an event that was so confusing you not only had to query whether or not it actually happened, but it might have just changed your perception of reality itself? Well, that is this kind of moment in life. As far as I can recall (now, this may be inaccurate to the true happenings as this story should confuse you too) we pulled up to the station, slowed, stopped, and the doors opened. After a few souls departed, they closed. They then proceeded to open again and, like the heard of wildebeest stampeding away from the hyenas in The Lion King, a whole throng of people suddenly lurched out of the car and scampered across the platform to a waiting A train. It was as if either someone had let out a putrid fart inside the train, or someone had just announced there were free dime bags of fresh Colombian white on the corner, but I have never seen a mass of people transition from static into full flight as fast. Nor was there any apparent cause for them to suddenly tear from their stationary state. It was confusion.

Good Boy: Relaxing on the train today, leaning suavely against the door connects one car to another. You know, the one that proclaims you must not traverse through, really only serving to tempt you, knowing there is a way to unexpectedly saunter into the other car, but refusing to heed to your inner desires. A middle aged man of non-descript description got onto the train, carrying with him one of those mesh pet bags designed so you can carry your dog around like an over sized lunch box (regrettably, with no matching Ninja Turtles thermos). He placed it between his feet, paying it no more heed as he stole a few moments to catch up on the printings in the day's newspaper. However, as I watched, a silent observer mildly wrapped up in the distractions of my iPod, the beast inside awakened and began nosing around his confinements. Eventually, he sleuthed out the precise location of the egress to his imprisonment. After a few moments of gentle nuzzling and then frantic pawing, he shot his head out of the bag and began barking in wily proclamation of his calamitously devious success. It was only at this moment that others took notice of the pertinacious pooch and his owner coaxed his head back in the back and securely zipped up the offending flap. I found it hilarious that with such tenacity a dog found a simple joy in liberating himself against seemingly insurmountable misfortune.

So there you have it. Four stories that I hoped entertained. Moreover, I hope served as fine examples for why you should leer that extra few minutes at the seemingly innocuous in your life. The good stuff is happening all around you. Keep your game tight, folks.

do the freak spank...