Sharp at first and then warm and burning, and then kind of itchy
Monday, December 18th, 2006I guess right about now everyone’s talking
about Christmas trees and shopping, and lineups and eggnog and gift giving and
shit, but the only thing I hate more than all of that crap is people moaning
about all that crap. This morning at the bus stop I had to listen to some
borderline stranger I made the mistake of smiling at one day 6 months ago, and
who has subsequently become the chatty Cathy who keeps me from my busride
bookread, going on about cookies and office parties and finding the perfect
gift, man it was enough to make me wish I had a bottle of Fireball in my pocket
(my sister’s boyf Ted’s weapon of choice for this trying time of the year.) But
like I said I hate that shit, so instead I’d rather talk about stabbing, or
more specifically being stabbed.
Poops and I watched an old episode of Buffy
last night. We’ve been at eachothers throats a lot lately and had a bit of a
session dealing with it, so a bit of teenage gothic melodrama punctuated by
gore and one liners was a fitting means of healing our relationship wounds.
Anyways the episode we watched was the one where the first is
triggering Spikes dark side back into action with that song and then the
seekers come a take him from Buffy’s basement and then carve all of these
creepy symbols on his chest to open up a diabolic porthole in order to release
one of those creepy prehistoric bad ass unkillable vampires. I know what your
thinking, how things have changed since we were in high school, and gripping
quality shows like this peppered the prime time landscape (Dawson’s Creek
anyone?) and now all we have is the ‘rape em, kill em, solve em’ dramas 5
nights a week, even Top Model has lost it’s edge… my suggestion is that next
season, Tyra drinks the blood of each weeks castaway.
So the seekers had to drain Spike’s blood cause
the first can’t take corporeal form, right? And those little
seekers really like their knives so they were taking great pleasure in the
stabbing part. And before that Andrew had stabbed Jonathan to open up some
other porthole and the first took Jonathans form and described
the feeling of the stabbing “Sharp at first then warm and the burning and
kind of itchy”. And yesterday afternoon I watched Talladega with the
Lockstock, JJ and E-Train and Will Ferrell Stabs himself in the leg (which
incidentally was effing hilarious.) And then there’s this news story of the
mother who was wrongfully accused of stabbing her daughter 90 times, when in
fact the kid had been attacked by a dog. So it came as no shock to me in my
dream last night when some random disgruntled broad stabbed Wallace in the
side, while Veronica and I dodged rocks being thrown at us from convicts as we
were attempting to convince Kate, who was looking good after Lock had figured
out a new island invention (hot rocks and a spatula as a primitive flat iron
for hair), to help us sneak into the records office at the library. I though it
was the least she could do after my bag had washed up on the shore and she had
taken it upon herself to look through my personal photo album. Anyways Veronica
seemed to be really unnerved by Wallace’s stabbing, I was little more
non-challant and figured it would take care of itself, and that we should just
try to stick to the task at hand. It made me think of that time when Gisele
told Jay Leno that after she was thrown of her horses back, her ridding
instructor told her to get up and get back on the horse immediately, otherwise
she’d never get over the fear of being thrown and wouldn’t be able to jump. So
I was like ‘if Wallace lets this stabbing thing stop him now, he’ll always be
too afraid to solve mysteries and will end up miserable, living with his mother
and delivering pizzas on a bicycle for the rest of his life.’ At first Veronica
was reluctant but eventually she saw things my way… or was it Gisele’s way…
it’s so hard to tell cause we share a 74% facial likeness.
So I guess the moral is that you can’t let
being stabbed keep you from your GGT, which in my case is finding things,
otherwise the fear will cripple you and lost belongings will never resurface.
Think about that while you wait in line with a bunch of bitches rattling into
their cell phones about how long they’ve standing in front of you.
Happy holidays.
Xo Shants
