If you were standing in the right place at the right time tonight you would have heard the following sentence escape from my mouth: "There's a rumbly in my tumbly." The right place being the street corner I turn tricks on, of course. And the right time being 8:47pm and 20 seconds.
Okay, so it might not technically be the first time I've uttered those words it might have just slipped out once or twice before in my sleep (I do actually talk in my sleep, even more so than in my waking hours and yes, that IS possible...), but who can really say, other than the SandMan. And how creepy is that name anyway, The SandMan, it's like he was a reject for Candyman so he goes around putting things in our eyes at night, and wow, I really hope I'm not the only one who knows about the SandMan or else you're probably all thinking I've totally lost my marbles, aren't you? (you should really work on your psychic connection to me, you are missing out on a LOT of chicken recipes and Chicken Soup For The Ass stories).
But let's move on, shall we? Because I have important things on my mind. Like the fact that my brain is now filled with fluff, I woke up inside a tree this morning and I'm turning a golden shade of yellow.
You’ll be glad to know I now have this new found appreciation of honey. No, not you, honey. Food, honey. (at least I think it's food anyway. Or is it more of a condiment? Who cares? Not me.). Surely this can only mean Winnie The Pooh Is Trapped Inside My Body and so I have taken to walking around in a red t-shirt that shows my belly. And nothing else. Because bears don't need no stinking pants, okay?
Well, ok, not really. I wear pants. I just wanted to make sure you knew how serious this Winnie the Pooh inhabiting my body thing is. Because it's serious. Yeah, it is. Any moment now I could say "Oh Bother" go deep into the forest in back of my house in search of The Hundred Acre Wood, and make friends with a pig, a tiger, a rabbit, a donkey and owl.
This might not sound like a problem to some of you, but what happens when I get stuck in a honey tree or my head is lodged in a honey pot? What then, damn it? Who is going to save me? Who???
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
What a great stEEYOREy. I’ll try not to RABBIT on with this comment but just wanted to let you know that reading your words put a LUMPY in my throat…it was quite nostalgic. I too used to walk around with a red t-shirt on. After I read your post, I thought there is no way I KANGA through the rest of the day without telling yROO how much I enjoyed it. My favourite character is exuberant, fun-loving TIGGER, Anywayz, thanks for the great post – it was definitely fun!!!
Kindest regards, Honey…Ooops I mean Graham.
oh! and if you do get stuck in the tree just give a little whistle (oops wrong film!)
Somehow Christopher Robin will be there to save you. Don't worry!
So, did this stem from emotions about the 3 year old? How did you start turning into a bear? A MALE bear at that?
Just make sure that when you out in to the real world, you put pants back on. They do arrest people for things like that out here! :)
Ah yes, I suppose perhaps I Do have a little butch in me :)
But it's the honey that triggered it. Damn its sticky goldeny sweetness!
Just don't get stuck in the sticky for too long and you should comeout of it okay eventually. :)
Post a Comment