Friday, June 27, 2008

Tales of Chet....

The other morning I woke and was sure I was either dead or hallucinating...

yes, I had been up late the night before but not that late
yes, I had been drinking the night before but not that drunk
yes, there was fast food before bed, but not that much fast food
however, there was, when I awoke a raccoon in my living room

I blinked a few times and tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes
shaking my head, trying to knock the cobwebs loose, I looked at the raccoon, who happened to be paying me no mind.
“no way...”

Oh...way my friend!

Cool, the raccoon was talking to me so I MUST still be dreaming!

Not only are you not dreaming, but I can read your mind, so watch it there sweet pea

Holy shit!!! There is a talking raccoon in my living room. What the hell am I going to do?

Well the polite thing would be to offer me a drink, but as you don't even know my name yet Jim, I can see why you haven't.

I was still shaking my head in disbelief and swearing off booze forever, like a thousand times before. The inside of my mouth tasted like the bathroom floor of a bus station and my head started to pound like one of those fucking night clubs that were so popular in the early 90's. My pores were opening and the ghosts of a thousand nights of $2 long island iced teas and endless tap beer began to haunt my questionable consciousness.

Listen guy, you can call me Chet, or Uncle Frank, whatever is better for you...

Uncle Frank? What the hell is that about? What are you doing here?

I wish I knew guy. I thought I was dead and in that big dump in the sky and I am.

So you're dead?!

I could be...I'm not really sure, but this place is a dump and you've got plenty of trash to eat so I'm not going to complain.

Hey Uncle Frank, why don't you watch your mouth. There's nothing saying I can't wrap you up in a box and throw your ass outside.

Yeah, you could do that but your old and slow and besides I know you are afraid of me biting you, as well you should be. They don't even have shots yet for the shit I'd give you.

I'm not afraid of you...and what do you mean by, “the shit you'd give me?”

ghost rabies...

Ghost rabies...fuck!!!! That sounds intense!

You bet you sweet showroom ass it's intense. Doctors the world over are constantly baffled by it and yet never work to cure it, so I guess that works in my favor.

Yeah, I guess it does. So you really have no idea how you got here or what you are doing?

Bro, this place is not Fort Knox. One of my living brethren could easily shimmy up the deck and with the use of our opposable thumbs, open the door and walk in. You might want to work on that.

Did you just, “Bro” me?

I did but don't worry about that. As far as what I'm doing here, maybe I'm here to tell you to clean this place up. Maybe I'm here to tell you to not waste time on your day off snoozing and doing shit that is counter productive to your dreams. Maybe I'm here to tell you that, “the guy upstairs” has given you some great tools to work with and you're fucking blowing it down here. Just maybe that's what I'm saying...or here to say, I guess.

Yeah, I've been meaning to tidy up a bit. I know I've been wasting time but things just seem to get in the way all the fucking time and on my days off, I just want to relax and recharge.

Listen guy, I hear that but the strategies you are using are causing you to fall into the Paula Abdul syndrome...


Two steps forward, three steps back.


Without a doubt broseph. As far as things getting in your way, bfd, it happens to everyone, you just gotta keep on keepin' on. You think I wanna be here, talking to your dumb ass versus rooting through that big trash pile in the sky? WRONG...but apparently I took my opposable thumbs for granted during my life and now I have to earn my wings or thumbs as the case may be, before I can go and eat the “good garbage” and sleep in fleece-lined nests.

But I've been better about the blogging though.

You have bro...but let's be honest, no one is coming banging or even knocking on your door for you to write for them. Bro, like three people read your blog and two of them are your Mom and your brother. I've seen your sitemeter stats bro, poor is being generous. So let's refocus the focus on school and nothing else for awhile, mmmk?

Ahh, ah ah. Remember I can read your mind, I know school is hard. In my life, I was an actuary, I dealt with heavy duty math all day long 6 days a week. Thank God for my thumbs!

Is that what did you in? The math, the pressure?

Nah bro...I used to eat a ton of fast food and smoke Kools like they were never going to make them again. All the pressure, the work, bad eating habits, the smoking & drinking and screwing around on the wife...all of that combined, that's what ran my clock out.

All that shit and you cheating on your wife and you think you're here to save me so you can move on? How about the fact that you were a douchebag in life and now maybe it's time to pay the fiddler?

Why a douchebag bro? Don't get all high and mighty on me. Let's be honest, you have not always been Mr. Clean-livin' your entire life. On top of don't live, you work and then come home and bunker down in your four walls and dream of things you have no intention of working towards. Oh boo-hoo, I wish my life was more interesting... Geez

Hey Uncle Frank, why don't you go fuck yourself? Go bother someone who gives a shit man.

But you do give a shit man, if you didn't you would not be in the job you're in, you would not have the friends you have, extend yourself so thin for other people, that they don't even have a unit of measurement small enough to describe how thin you get. When your phone rings at 3:30 in the morning and that crazy chick, you know, “the one you don't give a shit about” calls and she's crying, and you pull on pants and go out in the rain at 4 in the morning, just to make her feel totally give a shit. You give too much of a shit. You give so much of a shit, most days you've got nothing left for yourself.

I know...

You gotta start being more selfish man. It's natural and ok to want and get things for yourself. Wanting a nice place to live and a car that runs well and looks good are fine. A mansion and a leer jet, that might be greedy, but I know you don't want those things. I also know that you feel like most women are, “out of your league” Fuck that Bro! You're an intelligent, interesting, drop-dead funny guy. Yeah, you could stand to loose a few pounds, but everyone could be in better health. Listen Jimbo, I know you don't want to spend all your free time banging playboy bunnies, but there is nothing wrong with going after things you want.

You're right Uncle Frank...but

But what you're afraid? You don't think the first time I used the thumb to pull the lid off the trash I wasn't scared. I was scared shitless...but you know what? That fucking lasagna inside smelled awesome and tasted a thousand times better after I took the chance. Life is a sweet swimming pool there Jimbabwe...jump right in! Fuck fear! Listen, I know for a fact that you've heard all of this shit before in various forms so I'm not going to waste any more of your time and my breath. Man up and get on the bus son, get on the bus.

I looked at the window and before I could say another word, Uncle Frank and his opposable thumbs had lifted the screen and were out the window, like it happened every day. I'd say I've got more to say but maybe I should leave that for another time and go out and do some of that livin' I've heard so much about.

I hope you all are well.


No comments: