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Well
I figured that if the Terrorists could get off
their asses and take out the WTC's, a hunk of
the Pentagon... and whatever else they got, I
could get off mine and pump out an update.
Below
the exit links you'll find a short story type
bullshit thing I wrote. Needless to say I was
completely cooked. It's a true story other than
the names, conversations, and other minor particulars.
After I wrote it (and was sober) I re-read it
and thought it was stupid. I decided to post it
anyways under the hope that most of the poeple
reading it were high.
Whatever.
EXIT
LINKS
- Fat
Willie's Shack of Sluts | Stolen
Goods
A
friend of mine called me a while ago from a long
distance phone number that I didn't recognize.
I answered it and it was (lets call him) Vivian.
Vivian is a very strange fellow with way to many
addictions. To say the least he's pretty damn
twisted. I put the speaker to my ear and said
word. Vivian for Christ sakes don't beat around
the bush just get to the point.
After
a few more minutes I had taken in that he's at
Yellowstone National Park which is really really
far from where we live... especially for someone
as bent as Viv. When I noticed the conversation
had climaxed and things were getting dull I ended
it and went on with my business.
A
short time later it occurred to me… What
the fuck is Vivian doing way the hell out there?
Bah, who cares.
I
ran into Vivian at a decent sized house party
around a month later.
Vivian
I said… what the hell were you talking about
that time you called me a while ago? Giggling
he replied, Yellowstone? what are you talking
about Kyle? Have you been smoking rock again you
freak?!
Mother
fucker, is he denying that he called me?
Yellowstone
National Park? I don't even know where the hell
that is, he went on. And I don't even have my
license how would I get there? Besides, I've been
at my moms for the last few months.
I
explained that I didn't believe him and that I
was 100% POSITIVE that he was the one that called.
I walked through the story in my mind… Vivian
wakes up, eats two boxes of Graval and passes
out for three days. When he awoke up he probably
WAS in Yellowstone if you know what I mean. In
his bewildered state I guess he just wanted to
call and say hi. Vivian, there is NOONE in this
world that sounds like you. There is NO WAY it
could have been anyone else, only you sound like
you. Also, the guy on the phone babbled like you
do… and nobody can babble like you babble.
He
held his ground so we accepted our differences
and continued drinking.
When
we all woke up the next morning we sat around
and chilled for a bit. Now clear minded Vivian
approached me with what we had discussed during
the party. We came up with an idea and checked
my cell phone for that long distance number I
didn't recognize. Sure enough if was still in
memory, without a thought I pressed 'talk'. After
several rings a semi familiar voice answered.
"Hullo?" it said. Who is this?
I looked over and saw Vivian. "Kyle?"
the voice said, "is that you?"
Amit?!!! What the fuck! I looked over and saw
Vivian laughing his ass off. I told you to stay
off that rock, he howled.
I
couldn't believe it. I was wrong the whole time!
I was 100% sure; there wasn't a microgram of doubt
in my mind… I would have put my soul on the
line.
Amit
man, where are you? "Algonquin, up North."
He replied. What the fuck did you call me about
the other day? "Oh sorry man, I was drunk
and just wanted to see what you were up to".
My mind still needed to recover so I summed up
and got off the phone.
I
told you, Vivian said, you ain't never know.
It's
months later now but this still pops into my head
sometimes. I learned then that you can never be
sure of anything. You ain't never know, Vivian
had said.
There
you have it. What can you trust?… who knows.
What can you be sure about?… nothing. Who
can you trust?… that's a good question.
I'm
gon-zo. Anyone
have any ideas?
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