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| Whenever I get exasperated and stressed out from all the mayhem in Frankie’s Apartment, I like to go out and play around with garbage in all those busted empty lots in the 6th Borough. Heavens knows there’s plenty of those to frolic in. What’s it like, you ask? Well… it’s kinda like going to a Spa. I mean, I still like going to spas and all but “Garbage Fun” is more about therapeutic activities. Ya’ know… splashing in oil puddles, nose-diving into piles of rusty cans, sitting on used coffee grinds, wearing spent orange halves on your head… stuff like that. I find it rather rejuvenating and I highly recommend it! |
THis post reminds me of that great time when you tried to parachute off the roof using an old Krinkle Bag, the kind you get from a deli or a 99¢ store that says THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU on it. It was funny how you screamed out my name and told me how much you loved me before you hit pavement. Those krinkle bags never work! Oddly, those 3-dollar black umbrellas with the hook DO work, you should try one of those sometime.
It wasn’t funny how you played dead for 4 days then scared the shit out of me during your funeral. That’s when Sudsy started crying.
Mr. P wouldn’t even show up to the funeral. He said, “Rubbish was always a dick, anyway.”
You got me good though.
It was funny for a little while. My ass was in a cast for 6 weeks. I had to borrow Bill the Snowman’s branch arm to scratch it.
Everyone signed your ass-cast though. I can’t believe you saved that thing. Sudsy signed his name in Mr. Parfenix’s blood, Mr. Parfenix signed his own name in poop, and I used it as a repository for my late-winter boogers (which are super-big and dry in that time period due the high radiator heat in the house). I know you consider the ass-cast a prized possession but we really have to take it down off the mantle.
You should give it to the Raccoon Family that live in the janitor’s closet on the 8th floor. Mr. P rents them the closet, calling it a “Spatial One-Bedroom” the bedroom being the broom-cubby on the Eastern Wall. They’d love to serve your ass-cast for Thanksgiving. Raccoons have such weird taste in food, wouldn’t you agree?
Thanks to my over active imagination, the back and forth between Rubbish and Frankie had to be the highlight of my lunch hour.
Those “Racoons” that live on the 8th floor are actually Mr. Parfenix’s nephews in racoon masks that he Shoo-Goo’d to their faces permanent like. As far as I’m concerned, they can eat my Ass-Cast all they want… I’ve been boiling they’re socks for soup for the past year anyway.
Oh man, your sock-soup is killer. Really delicious. But what do I know, I love soup so much that sometimes my taste buds fail me. Soup is the best invention in the universe. You know why? Because it’s like a mini-universe all in it’s own right.
FAVORITE SOUPS:
Chickarina
Yankee Bean
Matzo
Mushroom Barley
Miso
Wonton
Pasta Fagioli
Chicken Doodle (Cheez Doodles instead of Noodles in Chicken Soup)