Uncooked Iguana’s and Purple Mustard. in General Mental Anesthesia

  • May 27, 2017, 7:30 p.m.
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  • Public

Cheese and sympathy are 4 things I don’t need.

Earlier, I saw this iguana. I bent down to one knee, then two, then on my stomach to get a closer view. He was fairly high up in a tree so that wasn’t the best strategy. At one point he was staring at me, so of course I stared back. Then his skin stretched, his mouth gaped open, and he said…”Hey, Redferne! Get out of my face!” Right then, I poked him with a toothpick but he was raw & uncooked even in the sun.

I don’t hang out with raisins, although I have been known to frequent establishments with ladders, olives and the Spanish Inquisition. (Did you really think this entire entry was going to be about an iguana? silly humans). The great Friday’s fire as it came to be known, survived only by “Nine” because he wasn’t there that day. I passed away during this event back in 1996 and frequented the establishment only a hundred or so times afterwards, but I wasn’t alone; Habib died there as well clutching the NTN trivia box in his charred hands.

That reminds me, It’s that time of the month when I usually photograph chocolate, but all I have is a cup of water with cherries and mangoes in it.

Not to change the subject, but I wonder what the song that Sam sung was; my guess is it’s the safety dance.

And speaking of songs, I also wonder where Purple Mustard is now? Certainly not at the Nocturnal Cafe’ where I have a twin spare-rib and coffee with special sauce. No…no…certainly not there.

Alas, this foray into an aged abyss is a comfort to my brain. All this straightforward talk and jibber jabber about things that people understand, it’s for the birds!

The quick harvest of shy fruit is understanding.


Last updated April 14, 2020


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