Tarantulas and their Venomous Relations

Well, the widow's jar of oil finally ran out. That is, the miracle of my potbook's surplus pages finally ended at 456, and now I have no potbook to write in, because I forgot to get a new one the other day when I had the chance.

The problem is that language itself is patriarchal.

When high I my thoughts are very digressive, and discursive.

And this is a sweet Bible story about the prophet Elisha:
2 Kings 2
23.
[Elisha was like a huge prophet after his predecessor Elijah, and did a lot of copycat miracles and deeds, but God liked Elijah better because Elijah got taken up to Heaven in a chariot of fire, while Elisha had to die in a more regular way. And God only takes you up to heaven in a chariot if he really, really likes you. So I feel kind of bad for Elisha. And that is a Cariss Biblical Introduction and Commentary (when I am high sometimes I entertain myself and make commentaries upon the Bible, and retell certain Bible stories where people suddenly turn into sassy voluptuous black women at random times).] Then Elisha went up from there to Bethel; and as he was going up by the way, young lads came out from the city and mocked him and said to him, "Go up, you baldhead; go up, you baldhead!"
24.
When he looked behind him and saw them, he cursed them in the name of the LORD. Then two female bears came out of the woods and tore up forty-two lads of their number.
25.
He went from there to Mount Carmel, and from there he returned to Samaria.

Haaaaa. I always thought that story was hilarious. These youths make fun of the prematurely balding Elisha as he's making a journey on prophet's business, and he's like, "Fuck you, youths," and immediately these two vicious she-bears emerge from the forest and maul the gang of youths to death, and then Elisha just goes on his way. And that is why you should not make fun of people for being bald, or having a receding hairline or a bald spot, because they can't help it, and plus it will come back to bite you in the ass, as we have seen.

Actually my boss Mahmoud has a very small head with a bald spot and receding hairline in a strange pattern, and also he is well over six feet tall, and when we are peering around the store for Mahmoud we always locate him by his bald spot because it is easy to navigate by, and sometimes I feel bad.

The other day a tea glass fell off the espresso machine and broke for no reason, even though nobody was in that area of the restaurant. I leapt and made a sound like a frightened gay man (I am not being heterosexist; that is just the nature of the sound that I made. It is true. That is the only way I know how to describe it). "Fantasama," said Armando, pointing at it. "A ghost." He is very superstitious and often makes the sign of the cross when he sees large groups of people approaching the restaurant, or when he is hoping that Mahmoud will come in late.



Haaa, that creature looks like it wants to be part of the vegetation. It likes to just stand there under the pleasant weight of its wool, like a placid tree. Actually it is a fucked-up cousin of the alpaca.

Also, at the hotel during our trip to Chicago my dad and I watched a lot of edifying cable tv shows about meth, and about real 16th-century pirates, and how when they invaded Panama City they strung up all the male residents to the ceiling by their PRIVITIES in order to make them give up their gold, and then would drop them and stab them and run off, and they even showed a re-enactment of it, and it was fucked up.

Also at 3am after arriving in Chicago I could not sleep so I was watching a show on Animal Planet called Tarantulas and Their Venomous Relations (there was nothing else on), and I saw all these monstrous hairy tarantulas crawling around and wreaking havoc and eating hummingbirds and raiding nests of baby birds, and it was so terrifying that I covered my face with my hands and peered through my fingers, until finally I could not watch it anymore, and switched to CNN. It is like when Jen and I used to watch very scary documentaries about ghosts and the supernatural on the History Channel late at night, against our better judgment.

Dude, that is all.
~Sage