Four Tiered Apocalypto
Well, well, well...long time no see, huh? It's really been too long. No...really, it has. Seriously.
So yes - I'm back. Now, sit back down and control yourself. There are people watching...
Unfortunately, I haven't had much to write about lately (as in two months or so). Thankfully though, I think I am coming out of my slump. With Christmas approaching, there seems to be a renewed interest in filling your head with useless, unrelatable and somewhat irritating information that pertains to only my personal life. Information that in fact, cannot be fully appreciated by anyone other than yours truly. Having said all of the above, let's begin, shall we?
In the last three weeks or so, I have been witness to a series of events; events so cataclysmically prophetic that I felt duty-bound to relay them to all my reader(s). Not one to sit idly by and let things happen (unless of course by 'idly by' you mean sitting in bed and complaining), I write this blog entry as a warning. Yes! A warning to all who read it that the end of the world is coming...and coming FAST!
The first incident started off innocuously enough. My mother was down visiting her favourite homo-san, yours truly, and I took her along on a little shopping spree financed exclusively by her. That's my favourite kind of spree, by the way. In any event, we ended up at the fabulous Toronto subway stop below Yonge & Bloor Streets, which was teeming with vermin. We headed down to the lower level in the midst of the crowd and my mother cracked her nail on a bit of metal sticking out of the handrailing. As we entered the subway car, she sat down and pulled out an emery board to file down the ragged edge. Seated beside her was a slightly Goth© looking girl who, upon seeing the emery board emerge, leapt up and pushed my mother aside, screeching, "That's GROSS!" She then proceeded to walk to another area of the car, presumably free of dead fingernail matter floating in her immediate vicinity. No word on whether or not she was cool with the large amount of airborne fecal matter she was ingesting, but I digress...
A day or so later, after mum returned to the Great White North, I was riding in the elevator of my building. We have five elevators in my building; four across from each other, two on each side. A little farther away sits elevator #5, the service elevator that functions as a normal elevator whilst not in service mode. Because of its proximity to the others, #5 is usually forgotten, especially when a potential rider expects to take a ride on #1, #2, #3 or #4. As such, there is usually a delay when #5 opens until people realize what's going on.
As I'm riding in #5, we go down about 5 floors and the doors open. After about 20 - 30 seconds, a rotund looking man, not unlike a white Rerun, gets on. Clearly his limited mental capacity compounded the inherent confusion accompanying #5, leading to the extreme delay in his boarding time.
We go down about 6 more floors and the doors begin opening. Before completly opening, Honky Rerun yells out, at the top of his lungs, "Are you COMING?!" Normally, I would point out this psychotic idiocy...but really, what was the point?
After my elevator ride through the Special Education system, I emerged into the rejuvenating daylight. I headed south to meet Ian, who was waiting patiently for me in the alleyway behind our haunt, rusty syringes at the ready. As I passed No-Frills, a young woman, pushing a baby carriage was carrying on a heated 'conversation' with the person on the other end.
"Hello?!"
"What do you want?!"
"WHAT do you WANT?!!"
"WHAT DO YOU WANT?!?!?"
"WHAT?!"
"Why are you calling me?!"
"Huh?!"
"Listen, I am changing my phone number! Don't call me again!"
And she continued along her merry way, snot-nosed cherub unaware that he has just witnessed his mother's last conversation with her baby-daddy.
In the course of writing this, I have actually forgotten the fourth event. Sadly, this means reading this blog entry has been entirely pointless, as salvation can only come through bearing witness to all Four Tiers of the Apocalypto.
God forgive me.
So yes - I'm back. Now, sit back down and control yourself. There are people watching...
Unfortunately, I haven't had much to write about lately (as in two months or so). Thankfully though, I think I am coming out of my slump. With Christmas approaching, there seems to be a renewed interest in filling your head with useless, unrelatable and somewhat irritating information that pertains to only my personal life. Information that in fact, cannot be fully appreciated by anyone other than yours truly. Having said all of the above, let's begin, shall we?
In the last three weeks or so, I have been witness to a series of events; events so cataclysmically prophetic that I felt duty-bound to relay them to all my reader(s). Not one to sit idly by and let things happen (unless of course by 'idly by' you mean sitting in bed and complaining), I write this blog entry as a warning. Yes! A warning to all who read it that the end of the world is coming...and coming FAST!The first incident started off innocuously enough. My mother was down visiting her favourite homo-san, yours truly, and I took her along on a little shopping spree financed exclusively by her. That's my favourite kind of spree, by the way. In any event, we ended up at the fabulous Toronto subway stop below Yonge & Bloor Streets, which was teeming with vermin. We headed down to the lower level in the midst of the crowd and my mother cracked her nail on a bit of metal sticking out of the handrailing. As we entered the subway car, she sat down and pulled out an emery board to file down the ragged edge. Seated beside her was a slightly Goth© looking girl who, upon seeing the emery board emerge, leapt up and pushed my mother aside, screeching, "That's GROSS!" She then proceeded to walk to another area of the car, presumably free of dead fingernail matter floating in her immediate vicinity. No word on whether or not she was cool with the large amount of airborne fecal matter she was ingesting, but I digress...
A day or so later, after mum returned to the Great White North, I was riding in the elevator of my building. We have five elevators in my building; four across from each other, two on each side. A little farther away sits elevator #5, the service elevator that functions as a normal elevator whilst not in service mode. Because of its proximity to the others, #5 is usually forgotten, especially when a potential rider expects to take a ride on #1, #2, #3 or #4. As such, there is usually a delay when #5 opens until people realize what's going on.
As I'm riding in #5, we go down about 5 floors and the doors open. After about 20 - 30 seconds, a rotund looking man, not unlike a white Rerun, gets on. Clearly his limited mental capacity compounded the inherent confusion accompanying #5, leading to the extreme delay in his boarding time.
We go down about 6 more floors and the doors begin opening. Before completly opening, Honky Rerun yells out, at the top of his lungs, "Are you COMING?!" Normally, I would point out this psychotic idiocy...but really, what was the point?
After my elevator ride through the Special Education system, I emerged into the rejuvenating daylight. I headed south to meet Ian, who was waiting patiently for me in the alleyway behind our haunt, rusty syringes at the ready. As I passed No-Frills, a young woman, pushing a baby carriage was carrying on a heated 'conversation' with the person on the other end.
"Hello?!"
"What do you want?!"
"WHAT do you WANT?!!"
"WHAT DO YOU WANT?!?!?"
"WHAT?!"
"Why are you calling me?!"
"Huh?!"
"Listen, I am changing my phone number! Don't call me again!"
And she continued along her merry way, snot-nosed cherub unaware that he has just witnessed his mother's last conversation with her baby-daddy.
In the course of writing this, I have actually forgotten the fourth event. Sadly, this means reading this blog entry has been entirely pointless, as salvation can only come through bearing witness to all Four Tiers of the Apocalypto.
God forgive me.
Categories: Miscellaneous
Mom or no mom, filing your nails in public is still kinda gross. Sure, I wouldn't have made the scene that the goth girl did, but the nose would have been upturned.
I disagree. The filing of nails isn't gross. That, along with nail clipping (shudder) is siimply annoying.
I'd love to see you witnessing a similar incident. For I myself enjoy watching those with upturned noses. On public transit.
Again. it was NAIL (full stop), not NAILS. If she hadn't done it, it would have ripped off, presumably painfully, the next time she touched something.
Ah, who cares...