S T r E a M # 3 9

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When I had the baby I didn’t think she would be so green. I figured she’d be more orange, like her mother, or, perhaps a shade of turquoise, like me. I am turquoise, through and through. I am a semiprecious stone, “typically opaque and of a greenish-blue or sky-blue color, consisting of a hydrated hydroxyl phosphate of copper and aluminum.”* But I don’t mean to brag. When I pooped out the baby, she said, “Mazel tov!” And I said, “Bitch, that’s MY line!” And I said to the doctor, “Bitch stole my line!” And that’s when the baby commenced to cry. And that’s when the doctor said that I’d given birth to a healthy baby girl. All this from eating that funky pizza. I should’ve known. I was warned, but what can you do? It looked tempting. And I was hungry. So she grew up and became a success at everything and retired young and traveled across the universe and set me up for life in a mansion atop Mount Rainier. She’d purchased Mount Rainier for a pittance. I was left all alone. She didn’t mean to abandon me, of course. But she had big plans, and when you have big plans you have to leave somebody behind. She married and divorced and married and divorced and married and divorced… and, in this way, she kept the galactic economy chugging along quite nicely. With apologies, that is not the correct way to breast feed a cow on a Saturday morning. That is, however, the way to breast feed a ding-bat on a Wednesday afternoon… in June. But we’re in July. And what the fuck? If I called you a ding-bat would you cry? Why? I don’t have the skills to eat chickpeas in the desert. It takes more skill than you think. You don’t know because you haven’t tried it. So, you really can’t say. Do it, and get back to me. Then, and only then, you’ll have gained my respect. But are you looking for respect from ding-bats in June or in July? Aim for August. It’s typically hotter in August. You want the hotter. The hotter the hotter and the hottest the hedonistic salvation will be. But only in August. This is what happens when I’m nearly starved. Nah. I’m not. But I AM famished. Nah, not that, either. I’ve had my coffee and cream. But I feel a touch lightheaded. Which is fun. As a result, this matters less – which is more important to me now than it would’ve been had I eaten breakfast earlier. But I am having a bit of difficulty spelling. Thank “heavens” for spell-check. (So many heavens! Too many to count!) And now, for my next trick, I’d like to invite a member of the audience up onto the stage. My fingers are going numb. Thank “heavens” I’m nearly done. Low blood sugar. Or that’s what it feels like. Numb more in the left hand than in the right – but I’m using the left more. Ok, relax. Jeez-Louise. I’ll post this right after I eat my organic cherry-vanilla granola with skim milk and sliced bananas and blueberries. And then I’ll brush my tooth. And then, and then, and then. And the wizards of Pixar will caution you against using the phrase, “and then,” to tell your stories. Instead, they’ll advise you to use: “Because of that…” You’re welcome. Bottom reached. 

10 July 2008 

*[New Oxford American Dictionary, or The Oxford Pocket Dictionary of Current English, or whatever Oxford Dictionary was available to The FireVaney on 10 July 2008. To be clear, The FireVaney consults both Oxford and Merriam-Webster dictionaries before wielding damn near any given word. That’s a lie, but indeed he does consult both Oxford and Merriam-Webster with some frequency—and yet he still manages to bollix the English language quite stupendously.] 

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