What Color Is The Apocalypse?
I remember when I was going to Culinary Arts school in '93 and was just married, had my first son on the way, and the Houston summer was scorching, and my '82 Chevy Citation didn't have AC and Loop 610 was backed up forever. The two right lanes were blocked off, and I'm like, WTF, why is traffic stopped? Some lady with a cell phone wrecked or something I guess. So, slowly I made my way up the trickling traffic when I saw this long line of cars with their lights on in the right lane driving extremely slow with biker cops zipping back and forth from the front to the end of this procession. Weird, I thought. Oh yeah, I was extremely stoned, so the whole thing was bizarre. What the heck is going on?!?...Finally, I saw in the shimmering heat the front of the line of cars with another biker cop leading the way. There, behind the cop, was this cream-white Lincoln station wagon-looking automobile making its turtle pace blocking Houston traffic for miles and miles, and then it occurred to me...Death rides a pale hearse...
posted by White Man Retarded at 8:07 PM
8 Comments:
Insightful stoned moments: I think you still get 'em, patrick, even without the stoned part. (Nice play on words from Rev. 6:8.)
Culinary Arts school? I had no idea. No wonder you're anti-casserole. What made you choose medicine instead?
Well, all chefs are nuts, job security, the challenge, increased quality of life for my family and me. I know you get the insightful moments w/out weed. I hate drugs, but for the story, it was part of the moment...
We don't have money for funeral expenses so I told my family to bury me in the backyard. I also told them that I'll haunt and torment them forever if they dare play 'Stairway To Heaven' or Celine Dion's 'The Prayer' at my funeral.
So, now that you own a motorcycle can you circumvent traffic like the biker cops Patrick? I bet you have a C.H.I.P.S style siren and lights to put on your bike just in case you need to zip around stand still cars. Secretly you know that you wish you had aviator sunglasses and feathered hair too.
I drove my brother's car in his funeral procession. He had loaned it to us before dying, since he was too ill to drive, and our car had broken down. It was weird.
It also felt good to have traffic stop as we drove to the cemetery. Like everyone had to acknowledge our grief.
I leave the CHIPS siren and handcuffs in the bedroom where they belong.
Susan, sorry to hear about your brother. I feel so desensitized towards my family with all of their/our stupidity and fighting and sometimes think I wouldn't care if they died, and then one day one of my brothers rolled his truck and had to be life-flighted downtown, and I was a mess...Life sucks sometimes, but in a good way.
I do know that tug with the freaky family.
(I also understand insightful moments/part of the story. Had many of them myself long ago, when weed was my mainstay. Now it's probably dark chocolate and that doesn't give the same insight, unfortunately.)
St. Peter would be like, "Oh brother, the Mormons are here again..." :) (re: Knock knock...CJello)
Wendela: Dark chocolate in large quantities produce a euphoria that is nice with no come-down. Perfect! And it's not against the Word Of Wisdom; that's in the Doctrine and Covenants, a book of modern-day revelation through the current prophets if you don't know. Well, the negative effects of large amounts of Dark Chocolate are pimples and love-handles.
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