This rain is nice indeed.
Goodnight, my friends.
Stephen
Friday, March 28, 2014
The Sound of Rain
Has a wonderfully soothing quality, doesn't it.
This evening I believe I'll put my feet to rest and read by lamplight, but not before I search Ebay for a vintage leather holster for one of my favorite handguns. Wish me luck.
This rain is nice indeed.
Goodnight, my friends.
Stephen
This rain is nice indeed.
Goodnight, my friends.
Stephen
Double Dose
My favorite brand of cereal sat there in all its glory with a flag which read, gluten free.
The stores taped music station played scratchy sixties rock transformed into 'put me to sleep while I walk' nonsense tunes. Older women and snap card recipients strolled the aisles with their elbows firmly planted atop the store carts as if each and every step would be their last. The gluten free thing bugged the hell out of me.
The little girl in the green store vest came close as she used her inventory ray gun. She snapped scans of scans, and left pleasant trails of perfume in her wake. I reached out, said, "Hey, what's happened to my cereal? Its been highjacked," or words to that effect.
"Huh?" I could see we were off to great start.
I tried once more, "Have you this cereal," I pointed, "Unaltered from its original form?"
"Ah, I don't know. Like, what do 'ya mean?" Such a bright girl, wonderful girl.
Play time. "Please, dear pretty girl, is it possible for you or either management to please check your inventory for this particular brand of cereal in its original package, unaltered, with its everyday hundred year flavor, texture, and if it isn't to much of a bother, I'd like extra, extra, double-dosed gluten. I like gluten...it's the gluey aftertaste I so much appreciate...the way it mingles with the whole milk, it really kick starts my mornings. Really, do you believe it possible?"
Her little brown eyes expand. She takes a half-step back and gets all Baptist on me with, "Oh, my God. That stuff will kill you. Why do you think they put 'Gluten Free' on the box. You really shouldn't eat that stuff."
Such a cute little booger, wonderful child. Me, all smiles with, "Like egg yolks....."
"Ah."
"And, sausage, and bacon?"
"Duh, oops, er..."
"May I ask, please little one - what exactly is gluten?"
"I don't know, kinda like a chemical...?"
I just stood there, slumped shouldered and with a pretend sad smile on my face. "No, dear girl, its basically a gluey substance made from wheat, and/or barley and rye. It appears the American liberal media and the hoard which presently occupy the White House has convinced the general public that to even sniff a gluten's tail will give you cancer and turn your tallywacker white. And, sadly otherwise intelligent people have convinced themselves it's true. But, that's fine. The government has folks dead set against animal fats too....takes all kinds."
For some strange reason she took another step, back. Odd girl indeed.
I took the box of Cheerios, flipped the crap in my grip, leaned close and said, "Bet you hate guns and puppy dogs too."
Stephen
The stores taped music station played scratchy sixties rock transformed into 'put me to sleep while I walk' nonsense tunes. Older women and snap card recipients strolled the aisles with their elbows firmly planted atop the store carts as if each and every step would be their last. The gluten free thing bugged the hell out of me.
The little girl in the green store vest came close as she used her inventory ray gun. She snapped scans of scans, and left pleasant trails of perfume in her wake. I reached out, said, "Hey, what's happened to my cereal? Its been highjacked," or words to that effect.
"Huh?" I could see we were off to great start.
I tried once more, "Have you this cereal," I pointed, "Unaltered from its original form?"
"Ah, I don't know. Like, what do 'ya mean?" Such a bright girl, wonderful girl.
Play time. "Please, dear pretty girl, is it possible for you or either management to please check your inventory for this particular brand of cereal in its original package, unaltered, with its everyday hundred year flavor, texture, and if it isn't to much of a bother, I'd like extra, extra, double-dosed gluten. I like gluten...it's the gluey aftertaste I so much appreciate...the way it mingles with the whole milk, it really kick starts my mornings. Really, do you believe it possible?"
Such a cute little booger, wonderful child. Me, all smiles with, "Like egg yolks....."
"Ah."
"And, sausage, and bacon?"
"Duh, oops, er..."
"May I ask, please little one - what exactly is gluten?"
"I don't know, kinda like a chemical...?"
I just stood there, slumped shouldered and with a pretend sad smile on my face. "No, dear girl, its basically a gluey substance made from wheat, and/or barley and rye. It appears the American liberal media and the hoard which presently occupy the White House has convinced the general public that to even sniff a gluten's tail will give you cancer and turn your tallywacker white. And, sadly otherwise intelligent people have convinced themselves it's true. But, that's fine. The government has folks dead set against animal fats too....takes all kinds."
For some strange reason she took another step, back. Odd girl indeed.
I took the box of Cheerios, flipped the crap in my grip, leaned close and said, "Bet you hate guns and puppy dogs too."
Stephen