Thu, 31 Aug 2006

the great occlusionist
I didn’t intend to visit my fifteen year class reunion. Pamela and I were attempting to buy illegal drugs from a night auditor at the Holiday Inn when one of the walking corpses of the Class of 91 identified me in the lobby and shook my shivering hand and pointed me toward Ballroom B and the next thing I know I’m telling a gaggle of my fucking peers that you can make Bird Flu serum from apples, but don’t buy too many apples all at once or else there will be rioting in the street. Pamela totally bought into this whole reunion fiasco as she’s never met any of the people I went to high school with except for Josef and Huey Kablooie The Living Bomb, so after she finally tracks down the auditor and gets suitably high in the bathroom she’s making medicated smalltalk with an endless sprawl of stayathome moms while I flip the imaginary bird at the cash bar only it wasn’t imaginary and now all these pipefitters and data entry failures are giving me three feet of space on all sides. State education is the final slavery!
(03:19.08.31.2006) [/scrytch] #