First Part (even though it's two posts below):
Part One
Now, let's see... Where the fuck did I leave off? I was sitting in my backyard, gazing sullenly at that strange creation I'd recently dubbed Arnold.
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| Inspiration |
I noticed that there were three holes left in the thing, so I had to go on an extended journey to find the remainder. These objects needed to be something more inspirational than I could find on a normal walk through the neighborhood, so I called in some falconeers and they ferried me into the great mountains of Davis Gulch.
I said, "don't ask questions. Just drive." And they did, like obedient car slaves (I can't drive because I'm too lazy to study for the test). I eventually decided the gulch would be a fine location, and we drove up the winding roads until I found a suitable environment to search for my first clue of nature.
I knew something crazy as shit was going on when I found this hobo's hideout:
It was then that the sky cracked open with a calling thundering, screaming falcons descending upon my body and speaking riddles of despair into my frightened ears. The stage of intoxication was growing, and the dissociation was almost at a peak. "Wait-wait-wait-wait-wait," echoed the birds, and I couldn't help but flail my arms around in a vain attempt to ward them off.
After calming down, I had to hike around a bit, but I was able to find some strangely shaped rocks that looked just right for the part.
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| His name is Poseidon |
The rock looked like something from the sea, a god of sorts. It was
perfect, and I named it Poseidon after the famous frenchman I'd read about in history books. It has an unnatural weight to it, a gravity that I still can't understand. By the time I'd gotten back to car, my friends had already smoked a few hits and were red eyed and demonic. Just the kind of travelers that I needed to take me places. Literally and metaphorically. We took off down the dusty road; the car felt like a shuttle on its way to the moon, and I was relieved. Relieved to finally be acquainted with the Supermoon that is most assuredly on its way. I was in deep hopes that it would cause a tornado to carry me away from these accursed mountains.
As the car whirled up the winding roads, we passed by a strange outcropping of ruins to our right. "Wait!" I shouted, grasping the arm of the driver with extreme vehemence. "This looks like the place." We screeched to a halt, and I got out, climbing the hillside to observe the graffiti-laced walls of some abandoned and destroyed brick house. "She's a brick... HOUSE," I said, looking around. The area was littered with discarded pants and socks, probably the remains of some degenerates' orgy. I would have collected such things to use for my project, but I was quite fearful of catching venereal diseases. "It was probably a good thing that I didn't grab something here," I thought in retrospect, getting back into the car. "That place was a riddle of chaos."
Davis Gulch Parking Lot
Here I was, sun setting into the hilly horizon, and with no clue in my brainless head about what to grab. This was a place of partying, and there was no sacred piece to be found. I spent about half an hour walking around to no avail, and the idea of leaving was quite prominent. But I pushed on and eventually located a large quarry of emptied Bud. This was the deal; I had to have something for my project that represented society's idiocy and the dullards that inhabit it. I may be an advocate of the marijuana, but alcohol is another story. I mean, who drinks up in a wilderness parking lot? I thought drunk driving was dangerous. I've seen a lot of people crash into ditches. But maybe that's what they want. I've always considered the drink one of a suicidal nature. I digress.
"Look at this shit," I said, "observing the massive amount of cigarettes littering the ashtray. "Aren't my lungs going to suffer some type of consequence from this?" I didn't really care, and I still don't, but the irony of admitting my wrongdoings is always enjoyable to me. It's a pastime, I might say. "Smoking cancer-causing agents and glass embedded in tobacco is a pastime for you, Wally?" someone might say to me. "
I'M A COP, YOU IDIOT!" I would respond.
We drove off and looped up around to Arrastra Gulch, but stopped to view the scenery. I was admittedly disappointed; I thought at this time of year, the murky waters of this strange lake would be bare to the world, but apparently the ice is hardheaded. "Damn it," I thought. I'd forgotten my fishing pole anyway. I'd been trying to cut down on the cigarettes today, but I couldn't hold the urge off anymore. I popped one in and puff puffed until my eyes rolled back into my head and I let out a disgusted "marmalade." I was rapidly losing perception now, as the skies darkened and wolves' howls filled the air. "Keep going, you fiends!" I shouted at the car's other occupants. "We've got places to be."
We skidded down the muddy trails until we were able to pull a great 180 on Grizzly and approach the mighty
Grizzly Gulch Castle of Mediocre Assembly. "There's certainly a lot of memories coming from this place," I said to my companions. "I remember a time when I, tripping hard on morning glories, came up here with some friends on the 4th of July to light firecrackers. I was out of my head, and demanded to have my own to light. I decided it would be responsible of me to hold it in my hand for the duration of its fuse's burning, and only avoided being handless by a few seconds; I dropped the thing and it nearly tore my feet off. The tracers, however, were amazing." They weren't really listening to my speech because of my slurring, but the nostalgia kept me going.
Approaching the great monolith, I felt like Gollum, looking into that mouth of darkness to grab some sacred object. Not a ring, unfortunately, but yes - you guessed it! - another rock. Why not have two? I was getting tired anyway, so my inventive spark was dying along with my robo buzz. It was indeed time to retire, and create something marvelous. Marvelousity is the name of the game, anyway. Plus, I was overly excited to go home and play some Silver Version on my PSP. Hell yeah, Pokemon is a lifesaver. We drove home, I was dropped off, and I went to the backyard to finish off my good friend, Arnie.
ASSEMBLY!
This fucker is going on ebay. $10.
That's the end, man. Hope someone out there enjoyed the story, because I put a full two hours' work into it. Damn straight.
We skidded down the muddy trails until we were able to pull a great 180 on Grizzly and approach the mighty Grizzly Gulch Castle of Mediocre Assembly. "There's certainly a lot of memories coming from this place," I said to my companions. "I remember a time when I, tripping hard on morning glories, came up here with some friends on the 4th of July to light firecrackers. I was out of my head, and demanded to have my own to light. I decided it would be responsible of me to hold it in my hand for the duration of its fuse's burning, and only avoided being handless by a few seconds; I dropped the thing and it nearly tore my feet off. The tracers, however, were amazing." They weren't really listening to my speech because of my slurring, but the nostalgia kept me going.
