No where to fish but the aquarium. Whirly with fly reel across the rugs. A dainty plunk. Bubbles. The burbling of the electric water airation assembly. Your catch is small and not well regarded by commercial fisherman. You, sir, are not a champ. You are a small fry. I have been told this so often I came to believe it. I keep it to myself. I hide my emotions under a size four and half Stetson.
Perplexed. I had ordered from ebay.com a stainless steel biker ring that was supposed to look like the Hindu god Ganesh, and I received what looked like scrap metal from a terror incident. It was miscast. Or so it looked. It was ugly. No further comment. No, I mean no detail could be seen. It was not Ganesh, the elephant headed, person bodied, lotus poised Hindu honcho. But there occurred to me a precept: What if I had gone short term vision impaired, the day the ring came in the mail? That idea came just now. Until that doubt cropped up:
Suppose there was a mass of soot from having cast a highly detailed image of Ganesh still clinging to the stainless steel likeness? And over a three day period a non-Hindu man wears the ugly formless-looking ring? And over that time, the soot wears off of the ring? It was like an episode of the Twilight Zone. First, I wrote back to ebay, complaining that I received a shitty ring.
I set the lousy, formless, ugly ring by the computer, found the 'return policy,' went through it, took and sent pictures of the ugly ring, with part of my mug behind it cause I used a web cam, and two days later I got my money back, easy, breezy, cheesy. The seller said I didn't have to return the ring, and was gracious about the refund. I had been gracious in my return procedure communications. I feel almost honorable for being so post-free-trade-agreement hip. ' Look at me negotiate on the Internet.' So there's that asshole ego, that stupid media saturated mentality that I would honestly like to overcome, fucking with my pale, over-stimulated little mind. Boo hiss, you soon will agree is in order. Here is why:
As soon as I determined, in the My Ebay section of the web site, that I got my money back and still owned the ring, and I wasn't going out any place nice, I had no reason not to wear the ugly, shitty ring. There is no one here to dislike the appearance, or to like a pretty one, for that matter. I'm a free agent, on the dim side of the moon. Folks don't all beam from the same power grid. So as I wore the ring, and figited about as I normally do, neurotic, OCD, I'm always fishing in my pockets, like a dork, the soot on the Elephant deity came off, atom by atom, so it took most of week for the detail in the ring to emerge. But as it emerged, I took notice, in short snips, like an ADHD case. On the final day of transformation, I had placed my right mitt on a door frame and leaned forward to look at something that had fallen on the floor. Doesn't matter what. An old gas bill. Could mean something. From the spirit world. Just before picking up the bill, I noticed the ring in front of my puss. All the detail in the ring had emerged, the rest of the dirt had fallen off, and Ganesh was looking right at me, giving me the message of inner peace. "Took you long enough," Ganesh told me. "You're not wrapped too tight, are you, junior?" he said.
Perplexed again, I asked, "But Ganesh, you are all about peace, it seems that you are P.O.ed at me."
Ganesh smiled, bowed his great head from the lotus position and said, "Back home we eat shit like you for lunch."
There's a moral to the story, if you don't mind wiping off the soot. A belated message of inner peace doesn't sound as good as when you land one more promptly. One should be quick about shit.
Perplexed. I had ordered from ebay.com a stainless steel biker ring that was supposed to look like the Hindu god Ganesh, and I received what looked like scrap metal from a terror incident. It was miscast. Or so it looked. It was ugly. No further comment. No, I mean no detail could be seen. It was not Ganesh, the elephant headed, person bodied, lotus poised Hindu honcho. But there occurred to me a precept: What if I had gone short term vision impaired, the day the ring came in the mail? That idea came just now. Until that doubt cropped up:
Suppose there was a mass of soot from having cast a highly detailed image of Ganesh still clinging to the stainless steel likeness? And over a three day period a non-Hindu man wears the ugly formless-looking ring? And over that time, the soot wears off of the ring? It was like an episode of the Twilight Zone. First, I wrote back to ebay, complaining that I received a shitty ring.
I set the lousy, formless, ugly ring by the computer, found the 'return policy,' went through it, took and sent pictures of the ugly ring, with part of my mug behind it cause I used a web cam, and two days later I got my money back, easy, breezy, cheesy. The seller said I didn't have to return the ring, and was gracious about the refund. I had been gracious in my return procedure communications. I feel almost honorable for being so post-free-trade-agreement hip. ' Look at me negotiate on the Internet.' So there's that asshole ego, that stupid media saturated mentality that I would honestly like to overcome, fucking with my pale, over-stimulated little mind. Boo hiss, you soon will agree is in order. Here is why:
As soon as I determined, in the My Ebay section of the web site, that I got my money back and still owned the ring, and I wasn't going out any place nice, I had no reason not to wear the ugly, shitty ring. There is no one here to dislike the appearance, or to like a pretty one, for that matter. I'm a free agent, on the dim side of the moon. Folks don't all beam from the same power grid. So as I wore the ring, and figited about as I normally do, neurotic, OCD, I'm always fishing in my pockets, like a dork, the soot on the Elephant deity came off, atom by atom, so it took most of week for the detail in the ring to emerge. But as it emerged, I took notice, in short snips, like an ADHD case. On the final day of transformation, I had placed my right mitt on a door frame and leaned forward to look at something that had fallen on the floor. Doesn't matter what. An old gas bill. Could mean something. From the spirit world. Just before picking up the bill, I noticed the ring in front of my puss. All the detail in the ring had emerged, the rest of the dirt had fallen off, and Ganesh was looking right at me, giving me the message of inner peace. "Took you long enough," Ganesh told me. "You're not wrapped too tight, are you, junior?" he said.
Perplexed again, I asked, "But Ganesh, you are all about peace, it seems that you are P.O.ed at me."
Ganesh smiled, bowed his great head from the lotus position and said, "Back home we eat shit like you for lunch."
There's a moral to the story, if you don't mind wiping off the soot. A belated message of inner peace doesn't sound as good as when you land one more promptly. One should be quick about shit.
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