OUT OF THIS WORLD WEDNESDAYS
DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A VERY LONG BLOG POST! YOU ARE UNDER NO OBLIGATION TO READ THE WHOLE THING! I WOULDN"T EVEN READ THE WHOLE THING! I JUST COULD NOT FIND A GOOD PLACE TO STOP! SORRY! THANKS FOR YOUR KIND ATTENTION TO MY SINCERE WARNING!!!
It is incumbent upon me to tell you about my close encounter of the “turd” kind.
I’ll explain in a minute or two.
Well, I was camped along the little stream that runs from Nederland down to Boulder; about halfway up the mountain.
So it was going to be a long difficult trek along the silver stream to Nederland, and the “Bob Barker Resevoir,” where they let me fish for free. ( So, I would always tell them, “The price is right!”)
Soooo, here I am trekking up the mountain, past rocks, trees, sticks, grass, weeds; “Hey! THIS must be the "hill" they were talking about in Boulder," I yelled to myself!
Yeah! Oh, yeah! This WAS the best grass and most awesome weeds I’d ever seen! I finally got it! ( Why does everybody consistently say I’m so dumb?)
Trekking! Yeah, that’s what I was doing...and sometimes climbing a little...also crawling at times; using my hands and arms to pull myself up over big rocks, while getting totally wrapped up in the glorious beauty that God created for our recreational needs.
The soft cool Colorado breeze felt like……………………No! That’s not descriptive enough.
The soft soothing Colorado breeze enveloped my senses and took me to a younger more carefree time when I would hang out of the window at the housing projects in south St. Louis at 4:30 in the morning, in April, to get the fleeting experience of nice weather, while I’d watch the drunks staggering down the sidewalk and trying to find their apartments in between episodes of puking and junk.
As I continued on my trek to Nederland, I came in frequent contact with a “poe- purrie” of many diverse and interesting fauna; including rhinos, armadillos, and a small multi colored snail that seemed to be following me to the “Bob Barker Reservoir.” ( He was quite fast for a snail!)
Having a snail on my trail (LOL) was a bit unsettling to say the least. Frankly, it was starting to freak me out!
The clouds became dark and omnibus, and everything got real eerie, and I began to chant; rhinos armadillos and snails, rhinos, armadillos and snails, (louder) rhinos, armadillos and snails, Oh, my! (Even louder and faster) Rhinos, armadillos and snails, Oh, my!!!
Guess what? You are correct, Boulder Brain. I’m still trekking up the mountain; but now I’m listening to the vast and endless variety of birds that grace the arborous trees of Colorado.
The Cardinals singing their,”pretty birdie, pretty birdie, pretty birdie, pretty birdie”; Hey! That’s what it sounds like to me.
The Robins with their carefree, “Tweedle dee, tweedle dum, tweedle dee, tweedle dum.” (What a sweet tweet.)
The Bluejays have a primordial, ancient sounding, earthy sound that I can’t describe. It’s too cool to describe. Just find one and listen to it, if you’re curious.
The Starlings are awesome, because they are shiny and can mimic other birds and...
I had to poo-poo.
Oh how I HATE pooping outdoors! I had to keep twisting my head around to make sure no one could see me taking a “dump.” (Quite the opposite of Colorado girls, who……..Well, you know.)
It was bad enough ( remember Boris Badenov?) having that creepy, multi colored snail watching me.
At least I had the forethought to stuff my pockets with toilet paper when I was in Boulder. ( Leaves are not very efficient and you’re taking a big gamble with them.)
Oh, crap! (To coin a phrase.) The “cockadoodie” toilet paper had disintegrated from the stream water and I was “s_ _t out luck”, “up s_ _t creek without a paddle!” S_ _t fire! (Please shield that last part from the kiddies. Thank you.)
Excuse me, but I need to stop the story for a while and go to the “Labonza.”
Whew! Okay. That was a double flusher! I feel much better. Sorry it took so long, but I got a Diet Coke or was it Pepsi (don’t want to tick off a future sponsor) and grabbed half a bag of “poke rinds” on the way back.
Sooooo, where was I? Yes, yes, now I merember; In the middle of “ good grass” and “awesome weed“, er “weeds”, with an unusually large and speedy snail staring at me, and absolutely NO POTTY PAPER!
While still in the standard “squat” position and desperately seeking something; ANYTHING , to finish the “project,” I hear hysterical high pitched laughter. ( It sounded like a Jackalope on “pep pills”.
Who says “pep pills” anymore? I sure don’t!)
However, I didn’t see anybody around.
Maybe I was losing my mind due to tissuephrenia.
(A condition that causes panic, fear and mental confusion when confronted with the fact you’ve done your duty and can’t wipe your “pooty”.)
But where the “bejiggits” was the laughing coming from?
The laughing kept getting louder and louder, and more hysterical, but I still couldn’t discover the source of the jocularity. ( Hey! Jocularity would be a good name for men’s briefs with one-liners printed on them. Or not.)
So, still in my “natural” position, I tried to focus in on the laughter.
I mumbled to myself,"Is it coming from behind that rock?”
Then I heard a tiny voice say, “You’re cold.”
What!! Whawazatt!!! “Who said that? Where are you? Behind that pine tree?”
“You’re way cold," the squeaky voice replied.
“Are you hiding in the “good grass” and “awesome weeds”, I inquired inquisitively.
“You’re getting warmer, poo-poo boy”, the little voice answered.
Then, all of a sudden, I saw him! ( It was like a movie camera zooming in on something. You know. Going from a wide shot to a narrow shot.)
It was the “SNAIL!!” He was hiding in the weeds about 10 feet in front of me.
However, as he started walking over to me I realized he wasn’t a snail afterall!
He was a “cotton pickin” GLIRKAZOID!!!
WOW!
He was about 4 inches tall, multi-colored; antennae, or is it, antenna sticking out of his head, and cute as a babies belly button!
Man, Oh, Man! This was the absolute, one and only, very first time I had ever seen a Glirkazoid, apart from my childhood years time traveling with my faithful pup, Fluff and……………………….Wait a minute. Wait just one “galdurn” minute! ( Harp music starts playing, like in a movie when somebody starts remembering the past.)
It was all coming back to me.
DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A VERY LONG BLOG POST! YOU ARE UNDER NO OBLIGATION TO READ THE WHOLE THING! I WOULDN"T EVEN READ THE WHOLE THING! I JUST COULD NOT FIND A GOOD PLACE TO STOP! SORRY! THANKS FOR YOUR KIND ATTENTION TO MY SINCERE WARNING!!!
I started remembering frequent encounters with Glirkazoids on summer vacations in the Missouri Ozarks, and playing Euchre with them.
They must have erased it from my memory, and now this little guy was bringing it all back! In fact, I knew this Glirkazoid back then.
His name was Greggatton. ( With the emphasis on the “gat.”)
“Hi Greggatton”, I said in a joyous manner.
“Hi Danny”, he replied. “How’s it hangin’?”
“OUT, right now, Gregor! I’m kind of in a sticky situation at present.”
“It’s all good, man. Stand and pull up your pants”, Greggatton said, confidently.
Miraculously, Greggatton had somehow zapped “everything” clean and sanitized! ( No shit!) (Talk about a friend in need!)
Greggatton would constantly change colors, from a metallic green (metal flaked), to blue, to amber, to just about every color imaginable.
The colors didn’t change according to his mood. (Like a mood ring) They just changed for no apparent reason, in beautiful, fascinating ways.
He told me many wonderful things, like the entire history of the Glirkazoidian race, their love of Jesus and Ronald Reagan; but he eventually told me the story of the “Game.”
I honestly had the feeling he was crossing the line by telling me about the sacred Glirkazoid “Game”, but he knew I needed all the help I could get.
After educating me on everything of any importance in the universe and beyond, he whipped out a candy cane, put it in his mouth like a cigar ( Remember Will Smith and that skinny actor in “Independence Day”, pulling out cigars “when the fat lady sang?) and “beamed out.”
On the exact spot from which he departed I saw a magnificent musical intrument! A shiny, new guitar!
Above the guitar, written in smoke or fog or something; it said, “You’re gonna need this, Danman.”
I got it! I understood!
This guitar was left for me to help me win the “Game!”
Too bad I couldn’t play the guitar.
But, wait till you hear this!
I picks up the “git-fiddle”( By the way, it was a Martin D-45) and start messin’ wit it.
Guess what happened? Right. I couldn’t play a note.
Man, I thought Greggatton would give me the ability to play! Didn’t you?
What a rip!
Maybe that would have been viewed as cheating in the eyes of the “Glirkazoid Game Masters”, I don’t know.
It was a really cool guitar, though. Worth more than a 1971 Corvette!
DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A VERY LONG BLOG POST! YOU ARE UNDER NO OBLIGATION TO READ THE WHOLE THING! I WOULDN"T EVEN READ THE WHOLE THING! I JUST COULD NOT FIND A GOOD PLACE TO STOP! SORRY! THANKS FOR YOUR KIND ATTENTION TO MY SINCERE WARNING!!!
Not wanting any scratches or dents on this awesome masterpiece, I looked up at the sky and yelled, ”Hey, Gregor! I need a hardshell case!”
No case dropped from the sky, so I figured the “game masters” were against it.
“Stupid, nerd bird, “game masters”, I mumbled to myself.
At that, the beautiful Martin D-45, with the ivory inlay and ebony trim and real gold tuning keys, was “zapped” out of my hands and “beamed” away! (Ebony and Ivory, They took my guitar away from me; Sung to the tune of Ebony and Ivory.)
(Whoops. I wonder if I ticked off the “Game Masters” a bit.)
(I did find out later, that my odds of winning went from a million to one to 100 million to one, because of this unfortunate incident.)
So now you see why I said I had a close encounter of the “turd” kind.
That’s funny! So, why aren’t you laughing?
Oh, sorry I touched on such a sensitive area. Did you use Ivy Dry? It’s good stuff. Yeah, you can put it down there. I didn’t mean to make you the “butt” of my joke, er, uh, I mean, make any “cracks”; Sometimes I’m such an “a_ _hole!” Hey, just “scratch” everything I just said; I’m “itching” to move on, anyway.
O.K. This next part is extremely important. So, LISTEN UP!!!!!!!
Greggatton is a legend among the Glirkazoids. He has won the “Game” 4,222 times! He takes the “Game” seriously, but shows deep concern for each contestant he mentors.
After I “forfeited” the guitar that Greggatton had so kindly and benevolently given me; he beamed back down for a minute.
He had his hands on his hips ( or whatever hips are called in the Glirkazoid lingo ) and was shaking his head back and forth in disgust.
His unflinching stare was one of anger, sadness, and pity; all at the same time.
Following his unforgettable display of righteous indignation, he immediately beamed back to where he came from. ( That’s just a wild guess. How would I know where he beamed to!)
