[First Post] 137
BANGOR (that OR) ME
The other day I had a revelation as I was bent over the toilet, retrieving food outwards
by violent stomach contractions and placing the contents into the deep cool waters.
Yes I was sick but that has never bothered me when coming up with new ideas before.
Why do dogs do this on purpose? Is grass such a delicacy that it is worth this primeval
upheaval. And I personally have no interest in the contents purged, so why do they
often inspect it closely and often ingest it. Have they so short a memory that they think”
hey what is this food doing here, hmmmm let me see how it tastes”: obviously the must
have longer memory than that because they know that when you pick up their food bowl
or a stick that they are about to eat or play. Selective memory. Ahh, just like the fact
that I think I broke up with all my former girlfriends, when in fact I just remember it that
way. Must be the case. But now what is wrong with rabbits. They eat their own poo,
and surely the have to know that the just did it, and the body decided this was waste
material. Maybe it is an urge to recycle and since they don’t use tin cans and soda
bottles, they work with what they have. I have no control over my thoughts, so sorry to
have brought this up. I am an overwriting under talented line layer, so forgive me.
Curious, my dog came into the bathroom. Bad memories of bad coffee mojo
resurfaced, as I viewed him lurking at the edge of my vision. He seemed puzzled, but in
fact I knew that he was plotting to seize my payload of goods. I reached over and
swatted him, and he turned with a snarl. He kicked me in the ribs as I gagged again.
And then as I rolled over he head butted me and knocked me out. I awoke tied to me
bed. A food tube forced down my throat. He sat with his back to me, rendering pizza to
mush in a blender. Then he attached a funnel to the tube and poured the mixture down
and I could feel my gut swell as I felt waves of nausea coming on. He took out the tube,
rolled me sideways and placed a bucket over my face. As I hurled, some splashed
back in my face, he didn’t even have the decency to wipe me off. He took his spoils
and put the bucket on the ground. All I could hear was the soft slurping, and when he
turned the ooze dripped from his toothy grin. I was lost, a host for his production. His
cattle. And as my eyes teared up, I saw him laughing and laughing and I knew I would
never be free.