“Tell me something I don’t know,
Show me something I can’t use,
Push the button,
Connect the Goddam dots”
Ministry
it took three hours with a leatherman and half a pint of
Popov vodka to fix. The damn thing always kept burning
holes in the acrylic sheets tacked to the floor. Acrylic
littered with cigarette ends, coffee stains and good
smattering of peppercorns, shot out of an ancient Daisy
pump rifle used to combat the evil twins of cockroaches
and Styrofoam food containers teetering precariously off
some edge, waiting to be blasted by an aspiring cowboy,
looking for praises and accolades from his roommates.
Puma loved to bitch about that, the time the roommates
decided to film a quasi-documentary about the effects of
alcohol and ganja on the marksman ship of drunken
bastards. The net result of the experiment was to land
Puma in a emergency room, nursing a wounded upper lip,
pierced now- smelling like pepper, and the loss of an
expensive Toshiba video-camera.
slamming the door. It shook the floor
and rattled the walls, laminated with
half a centuries worth of enamel paint.
The echoes of the noise crept through
the floor causing the little army pieces
on the Risk board to shift a few
centimeters to the left.
"Goddam," Miller whined, "When th'
hell is somebody gonna do something
about that?"
Nobody answered, too intent on the
board determining whose armies had
crept where.
"Yo, step back ass-nut!" cried
Puma, "Those are my pieces on China,
ma-fukee."
warm winter break, Smoothie came back from
his five month trek across the country. "Un-
fuckin'-believable," he'd said, "the ability to go
from one side of the country to the other without
paying a dime, me and Samvino would go into
Safeway and just cram everything down our
mouths, like we'd get sandwiches and stuff from
the deli counter and then go to some aisle with
nuthin' in it and chow." Since his precipitous
arrival he had done nothing but drink beers, tell
stories of the road and scam on females, none
of which had any credibility or common sense,
for that matter.
"It was like this, me an' Sammy we're all
coked up, following this car fulla girls met at this
bar & we're goin' back to their place to party. So
we're drivin' and stoked, talkin' about how cool
the situation is, how we're gonna get laid, and
not paying attention to the road. Well, what we
didn't notice was that the car we're following,
stopped at a light. So me an' Samvino are just
so into the conversation that we paused for a
sec, only to realize that neither of us is watchin'
the road. We look up. Scream. I'm slammin' on
the brakes, we're not gonna make it, I get right
up behind car and swerve into the right lane,
which was empty, thank Gawd, Goodyear
rubber scorching alla' way, and stop... right next
to car of girls, who're wavin' and carrying on
with the radio blasting, no idea how close to
death they had come.”
