I pulled up at last nights new spot feeling refreshed and ready for the world! The view was awesome, the sun was dropping behind the skyline. I sat patiently waiting for the sky to light itself on fire, to spontaneously combust and warm the frozen fields with its seducing glow. But it never came.
Not in front of me, anyway. I caught a glimpse of it in my side mirror. Through the trees. Ah damn it. I’m a sucker for a sunset. Some people like it when it rises. I do too but I’m talking about the sun here now! Those that like a sunrise must get up early, and waltz around in the cold and damp of winter stomping their feet to keep warm in the hope of catching a glimpse of that mornings peeping Tom as it slowly peers over the lip of the world. I understand the feeling of revitalisation. I get that. But it’s not for me. I like the sun fading away. I like to throw all of the days stresses at the sunset and watch them burn as the fires cross the sky.
Anyhoo, this didn’t happen last night, so I jumped through the seats, narrowly missing my face on the floor as I popped through awkwardly and upside down. Disappointed in my lack of contemplating moment that was snatched from me, cruelly, I popped the kettle on and watched as the ole faithful hand burner bubbled and whistled into life.
Coffee made, I had a chance to redeem the lack of contemplation as the heavens open and rain fell from the sky in torrents. There was still a tiny sliver of day lit sky in front of me so I dived back through the seats into the front and sat watching and listening to the rain. A car pulls up and a familiar face pops his head out. “Hungry?” Said Beefy. What’s going on here? Yes I’m hungry. Please let it be BBQ and not spag bowl. It was BBQ! A giant tray of the stuff! Brisket, burnt ends, coleslaw, pit beans, Mac and cheese (that I discovered lashings of meat in too!) and cornbread! What a freaking man! What a man! A quick socially distanced hand over and air hug (I might have thought about snogging him but he is as manly as me so I didn’t) he left and I ate like a king! Knife and fork and everything! I even got the table out as this was surely a joyous occasion worthy of such a thing! Ah mate let me tell you I had tears of joy rolling down my face! Tears of joy!
Fattened up I cleared away and sat about planning of the evening's events which took approximately half a second. That done, I phoned an old friend and we chatted for an hour, chewing the cud and just being general lads. You know who’s got the bigger dick, why mine would make his eyes water more than his mine. Another phone call was made that led late into the small hours, which had to begrudgingly end so sleep could be hand. Yawning I put my faithful Marvel PJs back on (I was hot people. Hot) and slid between the layers of Egyptian cotton that adorned my bed.
Lights out, heater off, silence ensued all around. Creeeeeeeak! whassat? Creeeeeak shhhh I said to myself. Listen. Creeeeeeaaak! A little bit of poo fell out. The noise was a steady back and forth creak. Like a weight swinging. On a wooden contraption. Like a dead man hanging from a gallows. “Wait what?” I murmured. “Why would you think that you absolute Charlie!” Of all things to think of at 3am in a dark dirt track miles from anywhere. On your own. A fucking dead man hanging from a gallows.
Sound. I’ll just lay here and listen to that until daylight comes then shall I? Brill. Absolutely brill. Now I’m a bit of a fairy believe it or not. My mind, as y’all already know, is a wild, discombobulated place. This wasn’t helping. So I took to being a maniac and destroyed 6 two finger kitkat. Fakes ones. Destroyed by not snapping them down the break line but just chomping on them like a savage animal. On the last one, I shared a picture of said annihilated fake kitkat to our group, Friends Of Calamity Shane. (Join in the fun if you haven’t already!)
It was 0430. The dead geezer was still creaking away outside when my phone pinged with a message. It was from one of you guys, a firm supporter and welcome face in my mailbox. He asked why I was awake so I told him the above story albeit a shortened version. “Deadman outside. His gallows are creaking. It’s keeping me awake. Poo has come out.”
This guy waffled on about something about only things inside our own mind exist as fact, and something he copied from Wikipedia, but then something caught my eye in his message. He said he’s far from intellectual. Well I disagree my friend. You have been a constant in my message box, with more than useful snippets of help, encouragement and smoke blowing. Yes, intellect is born with and knowledge is gained, but it takes a clever, intellectual person to use the gained knowledge to benefit others. The way you pose yourself my my man is nothing but astonishing! Your messages never go unnoticed. And I’ll take “Intellectually knowledgeable wordsmith” (me) and raise you with “random dude that changes lives selflessly!” (You) Keep it up Cornelius! Name changed because I can
We’ve learned absolutely zilch from today’s blog, apart from perhaps that dead men are still noisy, but I’ve kept you busy for a few minutes!
If you’re scared about something, anything, if you don’t reach out then you can’t be calmed.
I wish I could sleep but my brain never lets me: One sheep, Two sheep, Three cows, a duck a pogo stick, turtle, Old Mac Donald had a farm. Hey Macarena...