Dropping back in!

Posted: 20 March, 2012 in Daily Droppings, Other
Tags: , , , , ,

Heya, Kiddos and Kiddettes. It’s been WAY too long, but I’m back and hopefully not going anywhere too soon.

I got a buttload of juicy posts coming your way in the next few weeks (FYI a buttload is just shy of and assload which is less than an asston which is less that a Fuckton. [fuckload is where it should logically be, but no one actually uses that measurement.])

Today our shuffle says: “Hunting Girl” by Jethro Tull Songs from the Wood.

And here it is, your Daily Dropping. This one is part of the Chronicles of my trippy road trip with my buddy Tomsy. Have fun.


It was somewhere in the afternoon. I’d stopped keeping track of time, but it felt like lunch had passed without our attendance and our minds were lighter for it. We had crossed county lines and so sat on the trunk drinking beers in accordance with our rules of the road.The sun became a silver coin in the sky which I plucked out and began to prestidigitate between my fingers.

—Oi! cried Tomsy —Put that back.

It was hot. Hotter than the metal of the car’s chassis and I had to keep it moving or my flesh would begin to sear. Which meant I couldn’t palm it too much.

—Calm mate. I’ll put it back.

I switched it to the left hand which was more callused so I could pinch it between my fingers moments longer but it was also the clumsier of my paws and I kept nearly dropping the thing.

—Put it back! You’re going to drop it and then we’ll be in shite.

—Chill the fuck out. You’re breaking my concentration.

The coin was flat, possessed no markings and the edges were rough. It was thick and heavy too.

—In three minutes the last of the light from the sun reaches earth and then we’re sitting in the middle of the desert, in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the day, With No Bloody Sun! So stop being thick and put it out before you screw something else up.

—Ok ok. Just let me try something.

Tomsy scratched his feet at the gravely sand of the shoulder like a pitcher nesting on the mound. I moved the coin from a finger palm to a thumb, misdirected it, faking a hand change then did the same but switched then end. Disappeared it up my nose then pulled it out of Tomsy’s ear (which caused him to jump back and splash his beer).

—Hey! Keep that away from me.

I lost the sun-coin on a basic French twist. It fell out of my hand and landed on the car next to me.

—Shite! yelled Tomsy —Get it! Get it!

The paint around it immediately began to bubble and something foul-smelling wafted off the metal. Tomsy and I both made a grab for the little sun, which resulted in the colliding of our skulls. Beer splashed about causing beer steam to emit from the melting spot on the car. We struck out several more times only twice actually making contact with the disc and achieving no more than burning ourselves. Finally Tomsy managed to knock the thing off with a tremendous swing of his elbow. It bounced off the bumper leaving another scar on my dear Katrina and fell toward the ground. I caught it with the steel toe of my boot, hackeysacked it up to my hand, and Frisbeed the thing back to whence it came.

The air around us cooled slightly and we two took a minute to breath in the diminished oxygen.

—Feckin eegit yah!

—Oh rest it willya.

Tomsy shook his head.

—Ah, fuck I splashed out most of my beer. I popped the trunk and grabbed another.

—That’s what you’re taking from this?

I ignored him —Well would you look at that?

Tomsy stepped closer to examine with me the opened trunk which now bore a small hole where the disc had been. A shade smaller than the thing itself, thank gods, but big enough perhaps for a large man’s pinky.

—Well shit. I closed the trunk. —I’ll just put some duct tape over it. She’ll be fine.

—Duct Tape!? You’re lucky you still have fingers. You’re going to get me killed out there.

I shrugged and gestured with the beer.

—You wanna share this with me? I wanna get going soon and I don’t want to be too drunk when I start driving.

Tomsy just stared.

—Ok, after this, yeah? Let’s watch.

I hopped back on the truck, still warm from the sun. Tomsy ambled after, cautious not to sit on its latest feature. He took the bottle from me and drank generously.

Then the light went out.

We kept a reverent silence. Sitting in the daytime darkness. Staring up at stars so rarely seen.  Dark majesty of constellations unknown to man dazzling in our self-made eclipse. The few minutes lasted an age and I could feel the tides of time imbue us with the wisdom of a lost universe then wash away when sunlight returned as suddenly as it had been snubbed out, stinging the jelly of our eyes.

I drank until the bottle was empty.

—let’s go.


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