the story you are about to read was based on true events that occurred on December 24th, 2008... the names and dates and everything was changed, but only a little, to confuse the innocent... and let the guilty get off scott free... well, that's what they mean with these introductions, really... and what is scott free, anyway?... toilet paper that doesn't stick?...

meanwhile, back to the entry...

so� so� long ago� the music plays transitioning from the lennon classics to the new cd stack and mostly almost unknowns as i imagine the spirit of giving that many call santa (and thank goodness for it, for the spirit of the other holiday traditions have sure gone the way of hypocrisy in a hand basket over the years, but that�s a rant for another time when i have a tv and watch the news and am in the mood to share opinions of religions and politics and world affairs and the like) passing through more people in one night than any single human illusion, hope springs eternal once again�

and the phone is an amazing thing�

there i was nodding off, right on the brink of the abyss of endless sleep (or something like that) when the phone starts calling me� it knows my name, but i haven�t taught it to start screaming hey you nodder, pick me the fuck up already (wouldn�t that get a rise out of the board room or local pub crowd� hmmmm, could have a dual meaning and be an interesting conversation starter� or seriously kill any chances of meeting people� but then, that�s how it is with any uniqueness or opportunity, it�s all in the way one handles it� yesterday�s fool is tomorrow�s hero, the school geek becomes the leader of the world, and so on)�

back to the phone (oh, were we rambling on about that now?)� yes, the text messages started snatching me from the sweet arms of dreams (not that i remember any much, but they do get rather wet sometimes so they must be good) and i decided to send a few myself� and then, like a tsunami from the east, the phone rings and there is smash on the other end (i knew it must really have been him cuz he had a pussy on his lap and he was appropriately pissed)�

after adjusting my ears to accept the original english tongue (not that smash was sticking his tongue in my ear, after all, for all the heroic stories you might have heard about it, it�s not that long after all and besides, it�s way too big to get through the phone line and as sweet as he can be, smash is a bit too manly for me), and there are so many, after all, tongues, that is, but in the end it was great to hear the voice behind the mad author and destroyer of rubbers (friction does that) in his natural habitat� i wonder if he will remember calling when he wakes up tomorrow�

the infamous chad, who occasionally guest posts in the home of smash was in the background chatting up some unsuspecting innocent from another part of that little rock they call home and probably making her think he was santa claus, or perhaps some darker figure of the night� hopefully she is still talking to him tomorrow� and with a little bit of luck, there'll be no restraining orders and no barrister at the door...

ah, the wonderful tomorrows of our lives� those days we wake up and try to find a few pieces of the night before and failing at that, reach for another dose of the dog that bit� i remember them well, though my liver and kidneys are happy i�ve chosen to lose interest in the drunken days of yore� i am old, after all, as my good friend smash reminded me so warmly just a few moments ago (gotta love a brother who tells you the truth though, so where is that note from that girl who wants me to call her the next time i go out for a run?... yeah, that�s the sort of inspiration i need� gotta stay in shape to keep up with the twenty year olds)�

so now i am awake again, at least for the moment�

and it gets even more interesting (what?... more interesting than smash?... how is that possible?)� well, maybe interesting is not the right word� weird?... what?... more weird than smash?... ok, so maybe the word is creepy� oooo, creepy� see, what happened was�

there i was nodding off again and the phone rang again� i vaguely remember pressing the button and next thing i know is i am waking again and hearing voices on the phone� i say hello and nobody responds� all i can come up with is someone who�s name is not in my phone must have called me from inside their pocket� maybe i was the last number they entered in their phone or something� and there i am, asleep while their phone is connected to my phone and until i wake, neither of us know it� i wonder if this is the one� laughter, naturally�

so there�s a background conversation on the phone and i suppose i ought to hang up but i am curious� i would be asleep but the conversation is keeping me awake� well, not the conversation as i really can�t heard what people are saying, but my curiosity about who it might be� so very odd� it�s kind of mystical, like here it is, xmas even on the calendar, and santa pressed the button on someone�s cellphone to keep me company cuz he knew i was going to be alone� but i was choosing to be alone, to sleep, actually� and yet, curiosity is fun�

so is life when lived as i live it (and i mean mostly meaning no harm and therefore innocently curious and open to sharing anything any way the connections may happen as honestly as we are able� like this phone connection, for instance� i don�t know who is there and i don�t know what they are talking about, but i am kind of almost there with them even if they don�t know it� it�s an ethereal sharing and i just might find out who�s phone called me one day down the road, another mystery to explore along the way)� yeah, life is fun when lived as i live it�

maybe the phone wants to be my friend again�

wouldn/t it be nice :)

. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
(just let me know you were here)