Suburban Wino 2: The Wordpress Experiment

Back into the fray, atop a wobbly-kneed ruminant mammal of unusual size | September 14, 2011

A lot of folks have been asking where I’ve been the past few weeks.

No one’s really been asking.  My mom asked why I haven’t called.  I talked to her yesterday, but there’s something ingrained in a mother to start each phone conversation with “why haven’t you called?”

I can’t blame mom, though.  It’s an unconscious instinct for her to ask, like a baby dolphin knowing to rise to the ocean’s surface for air, or how white trash folk can sniff out the finest crystal meth like pigs rooting out truffles.  I’ve seen it.  Well, I haven’t seen it, but I’d like to think- one day- an enterprising young Kid Rock fan will find a bushel of delicious crystal meth with a glorious black truffle right on top, like the proverbial cherry crowning an ice cream sundae.  But with more hives and tooth loss…

Or maybe that was just a dream I had.  And since when do they sell crystal meth by the bushel?  Yes, you’ve caught me in a lie.  I have no idea of the standard weights and measures of lab-created controlled substances.  Chalk that good sense up to Nancy Reagan.

The point is:  when a moose gets drunk on a bunch of half-rotten, fermenting apples in Sweden, the interweb is telling me it’s time to get back on the horse, or the drunken moose.  There’s far-too much booze-induced brouhaha on this great planet deserving of commentary.  Innately, without thought or reservation, I’m compelled by a primal drive to weigh in.  Call it “instinct”.

So, as far as a moose cow getting cocked on cider and finding itself stuck in a tree goes:

I’m for it.

Advertisements

Posted in Uncategorized

Leave a Comment »

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: