I throw up! / And I throw up again! / I'm never gonna keep it down!

[muckefuck]

Have I taken to liveJournal? Let me just say this: nibadi phoned me up yesterday. "I thought you were sick," he said (in German). I replied (also in German), "Why, because I hadn't updated my LiveJournal in a couple days?" Yup, that's it.

The less said about the nasty stomach flu that laid me low the better. I haven't thrown up like that in years and, know what? I don't miss it a bit. I'm just thankful that it most likely wasn't food poisoning, since that would undercut both my relish at a fantastic weekend and my reputation for adventurous eating. I also have a new appreciation for Nuphy's pain. My abdominals still hurt; I've come to appreciate how much I use them for and I can't imagine going without full use of them for as long as he has. Also, I started getting bored after two days surrounded by my favourite books; how he keeps his sanity in a bare hospital room, I can't imagine. I just hope I can emulate him a little when the time comes.

I'm not all better, but I'm here. (Oh, androkles, you wanted me to remind you to harangue me at a time like this. Have at it.) I stumbled into work a half-hour ago after a quick breakfast at the "Stack and Meat". That gave me a chance to observe two curious occurences:

• The other waitress at the diner was eating from what I at first thought was a dinner plate covered in whipped cream. Subsequent glances confirmed that it was, in fact, an entire strawberry pie--with a dish of canned cherries on the side! She must be on the anti-Atkins diet.
• From the el platform, I heard a horn bleat. I looked into a nearby gravel lot and saw a compact blocking a truck in a parking space. At first, I assumed that the compact was in the process of backing into a nearby parking space itself, but it wasn't moving. After several seconds, the truck began carefully backing out through the row of cars behind it. At this point, the compact sped around to the other side of the lot and blocked the truck in again! The truck didn't honk this time or attempt to go forward, it just waited for a half-a-minute or so until the compact sped off and then sped after it. I tried to keep my eye on the vehicles, but they disappeared under the tracks.

Since magdalene1's schooling and rollick's working have been preventing them of late from chronicling the freakiness of the David Lynch Part of Town, I've been meaning to take up more of the slack. But, right now, the only other incident I can recall worthy of mention is:
I was returning from a visit to Nuphy late one evening. I heard singing on the street. A man was standing on the sidewalk facing a brownstone porch and belting out some song that I found...vaguely familiar. As I approached, I noticed a crowd of at least a dozen young people standing on the porch and they burst out with:

HER NAME IS RIO AND SHE DANCES ON THE SAND!

After the chorus, there was a bout of cheering--and then the soloist began the next verse! I heard another chorus as I neared my back door; I couldn't stop grinning, but I wondered how much appreciation the neighbours would really have for it.

Comments

[rollick.livejournal.com]

Hey, I'd chronicle if anything sufficiently freaky had happened recently. Apart from a roving drunk screaming "YOU CALL ME SIR!" roaming Sheridan the other night, my life's been pretty freak-free recently.

Hey, if you're healthy and free on Saturday, there's another Witch Hunt party happening at my place, the first since the pool party you attended. You'd certainly be welcome.

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

d00d, the brownstone with the Duran Duran Family Singers is right across the street from you! This isn't the first time I've seen something wacky on that porch either. Some weeks after I moved in, it was a dozen young'uns decked out in splashy, trashy drag.

Alas, Saturday night is the first D&D game in MONTHS! If I slipped away to play Witch Hunt, spookyfruit would see that I paid for it with my scrotum. And not in a good way...

[rollick.livejournal.com]

Wow, I didn't know scroti were used as currency in his world. Neato.

[muckefuck.livejournal.com]

Where do you think the term escrow comes from? After all, whoever holds your has got you by the balls.

[grahamwest.livejournal.com]

I actually had a moderately freaky experience at lunch yesterday. We went to Lo's China Kitchen (because it's just up the street from work) and there was an old, rather weatherbeaten man sat at a table moaning away to himself as he ate his rice and sweet & sour. Sometimes it was nothing more than a low murmur and then it would crest up to a quite robust moan maybe with a few arpeggios before subsiding back to more of a sigh of discontent.

[teapot-farm.livejournal.com]

Hah! When I went to one of the Indian restaurants here, there was a man clucking at irregular intervals. Complete with chicken head movements. He was entirely normal aside from that, just sitting on his own eating a curry and reading...