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Rapture of the Rat
Rapture of the Rat
This post is ultimately about whether or not I should smoke a doobie, so if you get bored, you can skip down to the end.
The Hot Chili Pepper is a neighbor who has become a friend over the course of a few years. A single working mother, she struggles to provide a version of good life for her 8 year old son, Precocious.
In addition to sending him to a private school where he rubs elbows with celebrity offspring, she also gives him pets. Lots of pets. Right now there are two cats, a little dog and a frog. Things are pretty pared down at present.
There used to also be a cockatiel and two rats.
In the way of the animal world, one day the rats got out of the cage and killed and partially ate the cockatiel. That was a sad day at the Hot Chili Pepper's house, but perhaps predictable.
The rats got up there in rat years and one of them died recently, I forget what the circumstances
were. The other rat developed a tumor.
Since Precocious isn't in summer school, I hadn't had a chance to talk much to the Hot Chili Pepper until the other night when Precocious was with his daddy. So the Hot Chili Pepper and I knocked back a few glasses of chilled chardonnay and caught up.
The conversation lurched juicily from Haitian voudu to yoga to HBO series "Real Sex" to transgender sex to lesbianism to men to money to fear and we eventually got around to the rat with the tumor, which lived in a cage on her balcony.
"The rat disappeared," she told me.
"What do you mean?"
"He was in his cage and he just disappeared."
"Did he get into the apartment? Maybe he's living under the clothes pile in the closet."
"He's not in the house."
"Did he crawl somewhere and die? Did you smell anything?"
"No, we haven't smelled anything."
"Did he fall off the balcony?"
"No, he never stuck his head through the railings. And I did look below for a body."
The little dog was bumping my leg with his wet squeeky toy, trying to get me to play with him. Squeek. Squeek. Squeek.
The Hot Chili Pepper leaned towards me. "I think it was a rapture."
A rapture? That catholic construct that lifts saints up into eternal bliss in a blinding light that eliminates the messy ordeal of dying?
I burst into hysterical laughter.
In my head, a chorus of angels started singing "Hallelujia" and I saw that ugly rat with the lumpy tumor being lifted on high, bathed in radiant light, his sharp little teeth glinting, his eyes rolling back in his head as he ascended into Rat Heaven forevermore.
I got done laughing and wiped my eyes.
"Maybe an owl got him," I ventured.
"An owl?" Incredulous. "We don't have owls or hawks swooping down here. That's silly."
Squeek. Squeek. SQUEEK! SQUEEK! The little dog was now really demanding attention, and in the course of playing with him, the conversation shifted.
The Hot Chili Pepper recounted a conversation she had with Precocious while driving around. They happened to pass by a nightclub.
"He asked me about nightclubs," she said, "and I always try to be as informative and honest as I can. I told him people danced there and it used to be that your hair always smelled like smoke the next day."
"But," he asked, "are there hot and sexy women there? 'Cause that's the only kind I like."
(See why I call him Precocious?)
The truly juicy Precocious stories she relayed had to do with Frederick's of Hollywood and stripping, but I'm not going to tell.
Now, to the real reason for the post. I haven't smoked pot in probably 15 years, but I've been thinking about having a little toke. So I asked the Hot Chili Pepper if she knew anyone holding. Turns out someone has a harvest, so we talked about splitting a bag three ways.
I had complained to the Hot Chili Pepper previously that I usually get introverted when I smoke.
"It's more fun when you eat it," she countered. "It's more of a body high. We should bake some brownies."
And we may do that.
So, here are few questions to choose from:
Should I eat some brownies or smoke a doobie after this long abstinence?
Do rats deserve to go to heaven?
When is the last time you watched "Real Sex" on HBO?
Does your dog watch you while you have sex?
Will I get busted talking about scoring pot on A.F.F.?
8/2/2006 3:51 pm
Eat the brownies, then smoke the doobie... |
All animals deserve to go to heaven...
Don't think I ever watched "Real Sex" before...
Our dog has to lay right in the same room, I think he's watchin..
8/2/2006 8:12 pm
Oh, oops didn't see your last question,, nah, they won't mess with ya talkin bout that stuff, have'nt you read my stuff?? |
8/2/2006 8:25 pm
I am falling off my chair laughing about rat rapture...rature?|
The last time I smoked weed was the day Richard Nixon resigned. Cannot top that...unless Bush quits.
8/2/2006 9:33 pm
I agree... you should eat first and smoke after..so you won't get the munchies You get introverted?? I just get horny.|
I wish all animals went to heaven
I haven't watched "Real Sex" before, either, but I prefer having Real Sex
Sure dogs and cat's understand....where do you think we got the animal fucking from?
8/3/2006 3:38 pm
Here's what will happen... you'll smoke the joint and then you'll become paranoid that the DEA is bugging your AdultFriendFinder account, that they've tapped in from a Van with a satellite dish on it a few blocks away and will be busting the door down any minute. |
Smoke the joint... don't make brownies.... have you priced the shit lately?... brownies aren't cose effective...
See you in jail!
8/3/2006 4:16 pm
Fantastic style, silkditty. See, I thought the squeaky toy was going to end up being the rat. Silly me!|
Do rats deserve to go to heaven? Depends - do rats have a rat bible, or even multiple rat books of faith? And what would be the rat sin which would prevent a rat from gaining entrance into rat heaven? I wonder what Rat God might look like. And is there really a "Rat Bastard?"
When is the last time you watched "Real Sex" on HBO? Probably about two years ago, when last my ... um ... "After Market Cable Box" stopped working because the rat bastards at the cable company switched everything over to digital.
Does your dog watch you while you have sex? Yes, but I think he's trying to learn different techniques. Suddenly, he's begun trying missionary with all the other dogs in the neighborhood. It's a rather strange sight indeed.
Will I get busted talking about scoring pot on A.F.F.? Talking about an illegal activity is probably protected under the First Amendment. I believe you must display clear intent. Mind you, I'm not a lawyer, however. So ... you wish to make a purchase? ... Kidding! Jeez, hope there aren't any Narcs around the joint - I mean 'place.'
8/3/2006 11:03 pm
You sound like such a fun GF to have...my puppy is crazy...if I kiss my partner she joins in...it is so hilarious...worse than a child.|
8/4/2006 8:05 am
can't help myself - but who gives a rat's ass? |
been a tad longer for me but D and i have been thinking it might be an interesting evening - we shall see
and i was with Frank on this one - waiting for the squeaky toy to start bleeding
can i come and hange out with you two - grins - i'll bring th bail money
You cannot conceive the many without the one.
8/4/2006 4:20 pm
Personally, I think you should boil it down to the basic tar-like goop to make hashish, mix that with some vanilla ice cream the blend with fresh peaches in the blender. A week or so later, try to remember what you did. (Video cameras are great for this part). Sweet dreams . . . . . . |
btw - here in Texas we tie the rats to tiny crosses in the desert, wait til the falcons swoop down on them two at a time and lasso the birds. Then we ride 'em like parasails into the canyon winds. That's rapture!!
8/4/2006 6:21 pm
Brownies! After several years of smokng what might well have been mary-J-hoona and her distilled brother Mr Hasheeshbaba I started to become paranoid too. I think that came for two places - weird blood sugar levels in the bod and trying to not feel like I should not be doing anything follish when I have such important work to get done. (Brain bog) |
Good way to couter that is to check out how you feel before you go and have lots of Gater Aid and/or Lemonade around. Maybe eat a light, somewhat starchy meal an hour before? Your fave mellow music ready to go and a beach or mountains to walk in - ideally someplace where you can sing and "dance beneath the diamond sky with one arm waving free, siloetted by the sea..."
I haven't smoked anything in a few years now but still have a little of this plant I grew a few years back on my porch - probably pretty mild by now. Just waiting for the right person to share it with...
Happy Trails to you...