There is a path to follow, and it is shown in various ways.
It may be amber, or pink, or purple, or green, or ever clear.
It may have the scent of peat, or char, or liquorice, or even yeast,
But these are our friends.
However, there is a single taste that appears after forty minutes that will not escape you until at least eight hours, and perhaps even for days, depending upon your involvement.
This can be an enjoyable ride, if you have the guts to follow.
And,
The savior is
and always will be:
Lovely Ethanol.
See you on the weekend to find out what this all means my fiend, if you care.
It will be a Mother of a tale, if you can handle the experience.
.
The ZID Chapters, Part II
Moderators: Artful Drunktective, mistah willies, NYDingbat, Judge, oettinger, Oggar, Badfellow, Mr Boozificator
-
The Urbane Spaceman
- Super Drunkard
- Posts: 192
- Joined: Sun Feb 02, 2014 5:18 pm
Zid CH 1 Prologue
There are things we mighty Modern Drunkards have done and will do that must not be spoken under the light of the vengeful Sun.
Joey looked across the cement to me, awash in the orange glow of the mercury lamp posts, and he said, “Thish wash a bad idea.”
I considered it.
Yes, our abuse of gin had taken away the opportunity to end up inside our dates, leaving us down on the concrete, outside the apartment.
Them chicks left in a huff, which here is a term to describe “an automobile filled with vomit and wind-streaked with bile.”
I lifted my cheek from the cement and said, “I’ll never play chess again.”
Joey nodded, which made his own cheek scratch against the concrete. We were translational on the ground, but we spoke Drunkardese. It is the proper language of the Modern Drunkard, but it takes much practice to learn.
He said, “This would be a bad place to awaken in a couple of hours.”
He was right.
Just when you find a nice soft place to rest your weary head from your travels and travails, that is when the worst thing happens:
You encounter the need to move again, which will set off the spinning world.
Why won’t the Earth stop spinning for a moment while you seek your pillow?
Cement may feel soft at the moment, but when them birds start their vindictive chirping and the dogs begin their accusatory barking,
well,
then you know that the neighbors will soon greet you
…like the crash and the splash
a glass handle of Gin
will make when it breaks
in a moment of sin…
Alcohol abuse, indeed. Never waste a drop. We had played chess in the wrong way.
Against each other.
I nodded, scratching my own cheek against the hard surface of the world.
I said, “We ain’t too far away from the front door. But one of us will have to get up and use the key. Are you capable of that, ole chap?”
Of course, it came out like this:
“Wee ainshoo fway fumble dee bumble dee up a shazzle dee key. Arrrghhhh cupple more sips ole shap?”
And, most certainly, he understood.
He replied, “I would be most happy to rise to the occasion, if only for a key hole that might be more friendly than them lasses who dumped us here.”
We crawled and vomited along the way, dragging ourselves as slow as snails, leaving our trails. Hopefully no one would appear with a salt shaker.
Joey fell asleep twice, but in my presence of mind, I was able to keep an eye on him and awaken him after each of his slips. I used the tip of my shoe against his noggin for this.
He finally caught up to me. I did not gloat, for we had both crossed the finish line earlier. He was a man of his shlurred, and so he arose on his knees and fumbled with his key for the hole that did not exist.
Then his resolve faded as he tossed his greens in the roses.
I made that Rrrrrgh sound I always did when encountering something unpleasant, which was here “to get the fuck up and take care of business.”
I grabbed that key he dropped and stared at the keyhole. There were two. I slapped a scratched-up, pebbly hand against my left eye and went in with the right.
The key worked.
I turned the knob and slammed that door open against the wall, and then I shoved that puking bastard into the hole.
We were safe from the judgment of them Drys.
Of course, neither of us thought to close the door, nor take the key out of the hole.
zidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzid
In the morning, there were rodents, bats and hawks screeching about inside of the apartment.
I rolled over and fell off the couch. The scent of spent gasoline came in through the front door, and on my stagger to the lavatory, I saw that the front door was still wide open. My friend Miguel, whom I did not know, looked in and eyed me; he with his hand on the power washer. He was busy washing vomit from the concrete path outside, as someone else mowed the lawn.
I slammed the door shut on his face. They were the ones making all the racket that sounded like bats and rats in this place. Why can’t a Drunkard get some gawd damned rest?
Joey shouted from the lavatory. He said, “Fuck!”
I would have to agree.
I slid against the wall and turned the corner, and dared to peek inside.
Joey lied in the bathtub with the sliding glass doors pushed to one side. Well, that was pretty good. They hadn’t been smashed again.
You know, they make them shower doors out of the type of glass that will not break into shards, but instead, into pebbles.
He said, “I think we may have been going about it all wrong.”
I leaned over and expelled into the toilet. “Do tell?”
He went on. “I say with the utmost sincerity unto thee, this, verily, that we must pursue a different avenue to find the highest mountain. Drink awaits us, and I know of a fellow who may be able to help us with such a quest.”
Of course, we were still drunk from two hours before, and speaking in Drunkardese, so to them Drys, it would sound like this:
“Hey, tonight, leash take ush shome ZID and shee what the fuck ahppensh next! Blluuurghh! *spit, cough/spit*”
I said, “Bluuuurghh!”
That meant, “This sounds simply marvelous. Let us drop, drink and be merry!”
And so we would…
.
Joey looked across the cement to me, awash in the orange glow of the mercury lamp posts, and he said, “Thish wash a bad idea.”
I considered it.
Yes, our abuse of gin had taken away the opportunity to end up inside our dates, leaving us down on the concrete, outside the apartment.
Them chicks left in a huff, which here is a term to describe “an automobile filled with vomit and wind-streaked with bile.”
I lifted my cheek from the cement and said, “I’ll never play chess again.”
Joey nodded, which made his own cheek scratch against the concrete. We were translational on the ground, but we spoke Drunkardese. It is the proper language of the Modern Drunkard, but it takes much practice to learn.
He said, “This would be a bad place to awaken in a couple of hours.”
He was right.
Just when you find a nice soft place to rest your weary head from your travels and travails, that is when the worst thing happens:
You encounter the need to move again, which will set off the spinning world.
Why won’t the Earth stop spinning for a moment while you seek your pillow?
Cement may feel soft at the moment, but when them birds start their vindictive chirping and the dogs begin their accusatory barking,
well,
then you know that the neighbors will soon greet you
…like the crash and the splash
a glass handle of Gin
will make when it breaks
in a moment of sin…
Alcohol abuse, indeed. Never waste a drop. We had played chess in the wrong way.
Against each other.
I nodded, scratching my own cheek against the hard surface of the world.
I said, “We ain’t too far away from the front door. But one of us will have to get up and use the key. Are you capable of that, ole chap?”
Of course, it came out like this:
“Wee ainshoo fway fumble dee bumble dee up a shazzle dee key. Arrrghhhh cupple more sips ole shap?”
And, most certainly, he understood.
He replied, “I would be most happy to rise to the occasion, if only for a key hole that might be more friendly than them lasses who dumped us here.”
We crawled and vomited along the way, dragging ourselves as slow as snails, leaving our trails. Hopefully no one would appear with a salt shaker.
Joey fell asleep twice, but in my presence of mind, I was able to keep an eye on him and awaken him after each of his slips. I used the tip of my shoe against his noggin for this.
He finally caught up to me. I did not gloat, for we had both crossed the finish line earlier. He was a man of his shlurred, and so he arose on his knees and fumbled with his key for the hole that did not exist.
Then his resolve faded as he tossed his greens in the roses.
I made that Rrrrrgh sound I always did when encountering something unpleasant, which was here “to get the fuck up and take care of business.”
I grabbed that key he dropped and stared at the keyhole. There were two. I slapped a scratched-up, pebbly hand against my left eye and went in with the right.
The key worked.
I turned the knob and slammed that door open against the wall, and then I shoved that puking bastard into the hole.
We were safe from the judgment of them Drys.
Of course, neither of us thought to close the door, nor take the key out of the hole.
zidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzid
In the morning, there were rodents, bats and hawks screeching about inside of the apartment.
I rolled over and fell off the couch. The scent of spent gasoline came in through the front door, and on my stagger to the lavatory, I saw that the front door was still wide open. My friend Miguel, whom I did not know, looked in and eyed me; he with his hand on the power washer. He was busy washing vomit from the concrete path outside, as someone else mowed the lawn.
I slammed the door shut on his face. They were the ones making all the racket that sounded like bats and rats in this place. Why can’t a Drunkard get some gawd damned rest?
Joey shouted from the lavatory. He said, “Fuck!”
I would have to agree.
I slid against the wall and turned the corner, and dared to peek inside.
Joey lied in the bathtub with the sliding glass doors pushed to one side. Well, that was pretty good. They hadn’t been smashed again.
You know, they make them shower doors out of the type of glass that will not break into shards, but instead, into pebbles.
He said, “I think we may have been going about it all wrong.”
I leaned over and expelled into the toilet. “Do tell?”
He went on. “I say with the utmost sincerity unto thee, this, verily, that we must pursue a different avenue to find the highest mountain. Drink awaits us, and I know of a fellow who may be able to help us with such a quest.”
Of course, we were still drunk from two hours before, and speaking in Drunkardese, so to them Drys, it would sound like this:
“Hey, tonight, leash take ush shome ZID and shee what the fuck ahppensh next! Blluuurghh! *spit, cough/spit*”
I said, “Bluuuurghh!”
That meant, “This sounds simply marvelous. Let us drop, drink and be merry!”
And so we would…
.
-
The Urbane Spaceman
- Super Drunkard
- Posts: 192
- Joined: Sun Feb 02, 2014 5:18 pm
ZID Ch 2 Takeoff
The handle of gin stood like a solemn testament to failure on the center of the table. Amazing that it still held any fluid at all. Usually it is proper to kill the bottle, isn’t that correct? Perhaps it had spontaneously regenerated itself in order to magnify our shame. We had lost the taste for straight gin.
Neither of us spoke about the pink elephant in the room. The chess game was dispersed, scattered about the floor, under the refrigerator (we would find pawns later on, when looking for dropped hits of acid after we began to deal it) and the wall had dents from our whipping the pieces at each other.
Joey’s friend sat down at the table and opened his briefcase. He said, “Take this sheet and cut it along the perforations. Handle it once, and use rubber gloves. Shit will get in through your skin. Store it in tin foil in the freezer, or it’ll break down into strychnine real quick-like. 100 hits, hundred bucks.”
I said, “What’s it called?”
He said, “Take a close look at it.”
It was yellow paper, but in each square was a purple dragon. I said, “Oh. OK.”
Joey said, “What’s this batch do?”
His friend said, “Lots of visuals and auditory. Not much delusion or paranoia.”
“Well, what’s the fun in that?” I said. I was bullshitting of course. I’d never done it before.
He smiled and closed his briefcase. “I have more if you move this fast enough. The chef is a workaholic.”
The biker stood and pocketed his money with one hand and grabbed the bottle with the other. “There’s barely a full glass in this. That’s a damned waste.” He took the cap off and guzzled it. “That’s how it supposed to be done, boys.” He burped and left.
The scent of gin covered the table and Joey’s eyes watered. He ripped off a couple of tabs and tossed me one. He put his under his tongue and left to go sit on the couch.
Gin even smelled nasty to me now. I looked at the tiny square of yellow paper. The dragon was upside down, lying on his back. That’s how I felt. Done. Toasted.
I said, “You just swallow it?”
Joey said, “Nope. Let it sit in your mouth for a while.”
I said, “How long does it take?”
Joey said, “You’ll find out.”
Damn.
I said, “I feel like shit, all hung over. I don’t want it to magnify the suck.”
Joey said, “You will feel like Superman. You will be able to drink an ocean of booze.”
Huh.
Well Ok then.
zidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzid
The television showed Mel Gibson and Danny Glover in a trailer on the beach. I noticed a strange flavor at the back of my throat. I could smell it as well. I could feel my skin from the inside. I looked down and saw that the hairs on my forearms were gently waving to a silent, secret breeze, like a dance.
My lips turned up into a smile and I giggled like a school girl.
Joey looked over at me and he smirked. Then he began to laugh, and I did too. I said, “This shit s fucking hilarious!” I had forgotten about the queasiness in my stomach.
I felt like I should have a beer, so I did. It went down like water, and called for more. It was true. The hangover was gone. It had been replaced by something else. I didn’t know that I had merely kicked the comedown further down the road, like a tin can.
I felt the need to go look in the mirror, which is something one may not want to do...
.
Neither of us spoke about the pink elephant in the room. The chess game was dispersed, scattered about the floor, under the refrigerator (we would find pawns later on, when looking for dropped hits of acid after we began to deal it) and the wall had dents from our whipping the pieces at each other.
Joey’s friend sat down at the table and opened his briefcase. He said, “Take this sheet and cut it along the perforations. Handle it once, and use rubber gloves. Shit will get in through your skin. Store it in tin foil in the freezer, or it’ll break down into strychnine real quick-like. 100 hits, hundred bucks.”
I said, “What’s it called?”
He said, “Take a close look at it.”
It was yellow paper, but in each square was a purple dragon. I said, “Oh. OK.”
Joey said, “What’s this batch do?”
His friend said, “Lots of visuals and auditory. Not much delusion or paranoia.”
“Well, what’s the fun in that?” I said. I was bullshitting of course. I’d never done it before.
He smiled and closed his briefcase. “I have more if you move this fast enough. The chef is a workaholic.”
The biker stood and pocketed his money with one hand and grabbed the bottle with the other. “There’s barely a full glass in this. That’s a damned waste.” He took the cap off and guzzled it. “That’s how it supposed to be done, boys.” He burped and left.
The scent of gin covered the table and Joey’s eyes watered. He ripped off a couple of tabs and tossed me one. He put his under his tongue and left to go sit on the couch.
Gin even smelled nasty to me now. I looked at the tiny square of yellow paper. The dragon was upside down, lying on his back. That’s how I felt. Done. Toasted.
I said, “You just swallow it?”
Joey said, “Nope. Let it sit in your mouth for a while.”
I said, “How long does it take?”
Joey said, “You’ll find out.”
Damn.
I said, “I feel like shit, all hung over. I don’t want it to magnify the suck.”
Joey said, “You will feel like Superman. You will be able to drink an ocean of booze.”
Huh.
Well Ok then.
zidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzid
The television showed Mel Gibson and Danny Glover in a trailer on the beach. I noticed a strange flavor at the back of my throat. I could smell it as well. I could feel my skin from the inside. I looked down and saw that the hairs on my forearms were gently waving to a silent, secret breeze, like a dance.
My lips turned up into a smile and I giggled like a school girl.
Joey looked over at me and he smirked. Then he began to laugh, and I did too. I said, “This shit s fucking hilarious!” I had forgotten about the queasiness in my stomach.
I felt like I should have a beer, so I did. It went down like water, and called for more. It was true. The hangover was gone. It had been replaced by something else. I didn’t know that I had merely kicked the comedown further down the road, like a tin can.
I felt the need to go look in the mirror, which is something one may not want to do...
.
Re: The Zid Chapters
Keep em episodes coming spacenman, thirsty for more.
These had me
cause I can relate to them quite well
These had me
cause I can relate to them quite well
Drink!
-
The Urbane Spaceman
- Super Drunkard
- Posts: 192
- Joined: Sun Feb 02, 2014 5:18 pm
ZID 3 The Mirror
Joey’s voice echoed from the depths of a deep, dark canyon. He said, “How you doing in there Urb? …Urrbb. Urrrbbbbb. Bbbb… b… b…”
I stood back from inspecting my face in the mirror. One must never look into the mirror when ZID has come to town.
Why?
It is because of a simple fact, which is this:
Your lines on your face, your pores, your pimples, your scars…
They will look sharper.
As women who use a concave mirror to look for their facial hairs, to pluck them,
Well,
A mirror magnifies everything.
If you look too long, then the mirror will change.
Your face will change.
I began to look like a devil to myself.
I enjoyed it.
I pushed my eyebrows down into the frown face, and smiled my most evil grin ever.
That face looked like fun was about to happen, and would I enjoy this sort of thing?
I would say yes.
Now, let’s take a step back for a moment, before we go onward. We need to prepare for the step into the other side, cool?
A drink is indicated.
3.
2.
1.
Cheers!
All set?
OK. Let’s go, shall we?
The mirror is a reflection of you. It is not the time to look into you. You can get lost in them lines, them pores, them pimples, them dimples, them hairs…
And that is no way to spend your time on the ZID train when the final stop is hours away.
There is much more to enjoy than a mirror. No time for reflection.
Joey’s voice from across the chasm brought me back to the present.
I composed myself. If I was wearing a necktie, I would have straightened it.
I said, “I’m Ok, Joseph! Just feel the need to sit on the toilet!”
It sounded like this in the tiny bathroom with the door closed:
“Iiiiiiiiimmmm Okkkkayyyy Jjjjjjojojojospeph…
Just just just f f f f feeeellll… the need d d d d…”
---well, you get it.
In a moment, there was a knock on the door, before I even left the mirror.
That face in the mirror…
He said, “NO! Don’t shit! It’s not the best thing to try! Ignore the urge!”
I obeyed.
I said, “OK! Just gonna rinse my face instead!”
I turned the faucets on and cupped my hands, and splashed water all over my face. It dropped like crystals and ice into the sink, and it sounded like tiny bells echoing.
I wiped my face on the dirty hand towel and it felt like sandpaper and feathers at the same time.
Fuck.
I opened the door and turned to face Joey.
He said, “Let’s go grab a couple of brewskies and talk a bit, cool with you?”
I said, “Yeah, that sounds really good! I feel like I been in this tiny tomb with an evil mirror for seven years! I done built up a mighty Thirst!”
He said, “Great! Also, shouting is fun, isn’t it? But we have to do one thing. We have to remind ourselves that not everyone else is on ZID. Now let’s go chug some beer.”
I stepped back. I said, “Ohhh… Other people…”
Joey saw me shrink away. He said the best thing ever. He said:
“Now now. We are not in fear. We are in control of our universe. We are masters. We will do whatever the fuck we want to. Let’s drink beer, and then I’ll show you the map.”
There was a map?
Oh hell yes, we would have a drink to this curious map.
I shouted “Hell Fucking Yes!”
He screamed back, “Amen brother!”
zidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzid
The lights in the kitchen bleared and smeared with the golden fingers of stars, or perhaps the fingers of a higher power, and when I turned my head to look at the table, I could see their flares leave echoes of light in my sight.
Trails of light.
Spectacular.
Joey said, “We should have a cigarette with our beer. Then I’ll show you the map. Cool?”
I said, “Cool.” I burped and it echoed across the river valley and came back to my ears like a thunderclap.
We sat at the table and damn did that cigarette smoke taste mighty fine. I watched the tendrils of smoke curl upward and they swirled into shapes that looked like artwork. I flicked my ash on the ashtray between us, and the particles that missed the tray began to swirl and dance together in repetitive circles and whorls.
The design on the cheap plastic tablecloth began to move as well, and I thought, “Damn, whoever painted this knew! They knew what this would do!” But I kept my thoughts inside.
I was close to laughter at every moment, but would only allow myself little, secret snickers now and then when I could not contain it. My cheeks hurt form grinning, but my jaw did not hurt yet from the clenching.
That ice cold beer went down like water. It woke me right the fuck up. It brought clarity to a situation that was all too clear.
Joey said, “We have to make an oath to do things, and also, to not do other things, cool?”
I looked him right in the eye and said, “Cool.”
He grinned, and his face looked very shiny. I laughed. Then he began to laugh, and I got up and ran over to the sound system. I was laughing my ass of and I wanted to have fun!
I cranked the music up and began to hop about, and he ran over and hopped about with me. We were like kangaroos.
Then a curious thing happened.
It became too much.
I ran back the volume knob and turned it back down.
I said, “What the fuck?”
He giggled again. He said, “This shit is fucking weird, isn’t it?”
I would have to agree.
He had the presence of mind to say, “Now don’t forget your cigarette.”
I said, “Oh! Right!”
I went back to sit down, and my heart was racing. I smoked the hell out of that cigarette and finished my beer. It called for more.
Joey said, “We got plenty of beer of course, and we won’t be drinking hard liquor, for that’s expensive waste. But we need more fucking cigarettes. Many more. We are going to have to go on an adventure like my old friend Gero, like that time he stole several cartons from the gas station. Remember that?”
I said, “Yeah, man that guy was fucking crazy! He was on ZID? Damn. But… I don’t wanna leave here. This is too much fun! What about the map?”
Joey said, “That’s what I’m showing you. I’m showing you the map.”
I said, Hah?”
He said, “While we follow this map, we have to promise to do certain things, and to not do certain things. For starters, no eating, no shitting, no trying to explain to anyone how you are feeling.”
I said, “OK, ummm, but what do we have to promise to do?”
He said, “We promise to never leave each other alone while we are on this level, we always help each other, and most important of all…”
I said, “What, for chrissakes?!”
He said, “We promise to fully explore the landscape while on this short trip on the moon!”
I roared with laughter
Holy fuck.
The next chapter will be titled: The Map
.
I stood back from inspecting my face in the mirror. One must never look into the mirror when ZID has come to town.
Why?
It is because of a simple fact, which is this:
Your lines on your face, your pores, your pimples, your scars…
They will look sharper.
As women who use a concave mirror to look for their facial hairs, to pluck them,
Well,
A mirror magnifies everything.
If you look too long, then the mirror will change.
Your face will change.
I began to look like a devil to myself.
I enjoyed it.
I pushed my eyebrows down into the frown face, and smiled my most evil grin ever.
That face looked like fun was about to happen, and would I enjoy this sort of thing?
I would say yes.
Now, let’s take a step back for a moment, before we go onward. We need to prepare for the step into the other side, cool?
A drink is indicated.
3.
2.
1.
Cheers!
All set?
OK. Let’s go, shall we?
The mirror is a reflection of you. It is not the time to look into you. You can get lost in them lines, them pores, them pimples, them dimples, them hairs…
And that is no way to spend your time on the ZID train when the final stop is hours away.
There is much more to enjoy than a mirror. No time for reflection.
Joey’s voice from across the chasm brought me back to the present.
I composed myself. If I was wearing a necktie, I would have straightened it.
I said, “I’m Ok, Joseph! Just feel the need to sit on the toilet!”
It sounded like this in the tiny bathroom with the door closed:
“Iiiiiiiiimmmm Okkkkayyyy Jjjjjjojojojospeph…
Just just just f f f f feeeellll… the need d d d d…”
---well, you get it.
In a moment, there was a knock on the door, before I even left the mirror.
That face in the mirror…
He said, “NO! Don’t shit! It’s not the best thing to try! Ignore the urge!”
I obeyed.
I said, “OK! Just gonna rinse my face instead!”
I turned the faucets on and cupped my hands, and splashed water all over my face. It dropped like crystals and ice into the sink, and it sounded like tiny bells echoing.
I wiped my face on the dirty hand towel and it felt like sandpaper and feathers at the same time.
Fuck.
I opened the door and turned to face Joey.
He said, “Let’s go grab a couple of brewskies and talk a bit, cool with you?”
I said, “Yeah, that sounds really good! I feel like I been in this tiny tomb with an evil mirror for seven years! I done built up a mighty Thirst!”
He said, “Great! Also, shouting is fun, isn’t it? But we have to do one thing. We have to remind ourselves that not everyone else is on ZID. Now let’s go chug some beer.”
I stepped back. I said, “Ohhh… Other people…”
Joey saw me shrink away. He said the best thing ever. He said:
“Now now. We are not in fear. We are in control of our universe. We are masters. We will do whatever the fuck we want to. Let’s drink beer, and then I’ll show you the map.”
There was a map?
Oh hell yes, we would have a drink to this curious map.
I shouted “Hell Fucking Yes!”
He screamed back, “Amen brother!”
zidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzid
The lights in the kitchen bleared and smeared with the golden fingers of stars, or perhaps the fingers of a higher power, and when I turned my head to look at the table, I could see their flares leave echoes of light in my sight.
Trails of light.
Spectacular.
Joey said, “We should have a cigarette with our beer. Then I’ll show you the map. Cool?”
I said, “Cool.” I burped and it echoed across the river valley and came back to my ears like a thunderclap.
We sat at the table and damn did that cigarette smoke taste mighty fine. I watched the tendrils of smoke curl upward and they swirled into shapes that looked like artwork. I flicked my ash on the ashtray between us, and the particles that missed the tray began to swirl and dance together in repetitive circles and whorls.
The design on the cheap plastic tablecloth began to move as well, and I thought, “Damn, whoever painted this knew! They knew what this would do!” But I kept my thoughts inside.
I was close to laughter at every moment, but would only allow myself little, secret snickers now and then when I could not contain it. My cheeks hurt form grinning, but my jaw did not hurt yet from the clenching.
That ice cold beer went down like water. It woke me right the fuck up. It brought clarity to a situation that was all too clear.
Joey said, “We have to make an oath to do things, and also, to not do other things, cool?”
I looked him right in the eye and said, “Cool.”
He grinned, and his face looked very shiny. I laughed. Then he began to laugh, and I got up and ran over to the sound system. I was laughing my ass of and I wanted to have fun!
I cranked the music up and began to hop about, and he ran over and hopped about with me. We were like kangaroos.
Then a curious thing happened.
It became too much.
I ran back the volume knob and turned it back down.
I said, “What the fuck?”
He giggled again. He said, “This shit is fucking weird, isn’t it?”
I would have to agree.
He had the presence of mind to say, “Now don’t forget your cigarette.”
I said, “Oh! Right!”
I went back to sit down, and my heart was racing. I smoked the hell out of that cigarette and finished my beer. It called for more.
Joey said, “We got plenty of beer of course, and we won’t be drinking hard liquor, for that’s expensive waste. But we need more fucking cigarettes. Many more. We are going to have to go on an adventure like my old friend Gero, like that time he stole several cartons from the gas station. Remember that?”
I said, “Yeah, man that guy was fucking crazy! He was on ZID? Damn. But… I don’t wanna leave here. This is too much fun! What about the map?”
Joey said, “That’s what I’m showing you. I’m showing you the map.”
I said, Hah?”
He said, “While we follow this map, we have to promise to do certain things, and to not do certain things. For starters, no eating, no shitting, no trying to explain to anyone how you are feeling.”
I said, “OK, ummm, but what do we have to promise to do?”
He said, “We promise to never leave each other alone while we are on this level, we always help each other, and most important of all…”
I said, “What, for chrissakes?!”
He said, “We promise to fully explore the landscape while on this short trip on the moon!”
I roared with laughter
Holy fuck.
The next chapter will be titled: The Map
.
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mistah willies
- Drinking Like W.C.
- Posts: 6747
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Re: The Zid Chapters
Psssh.
Where's the draaanking?
Where's the draaanking?
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The Urbane Spaceman
- Super Drunkard
- Posts: 192
- Joined: Sun Feb 02, 2014 5:18 pm
ZID 4 The Map
A walk to the store for cigarettes sounds innocuous enough, and it most certainly should be that. However, in the manner of the Urbane Spaceman, one must always afford the opportunity to explore other worlds, isn’t that correct?
All manner of delight from various concoctions and intoxications across this here planet that have been discovered and documented by brave and diligent souls in pursuit of happiness,
Well,
They are written on a map for the inquisitive explorer. There be deep sea ahead with trenches and frightful, strange creatures, and shoals with Sirens, and all manner of head hunters and voodoo afoot upon landing, and these must be avoided at all costs.
Then, there are the other paths.
Choose wisely where you will chart your course.
Smokes? Yes, smokes. They were our X on the treasure map for this first sail upon the sea of Zid.
zidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzid
I carried a bag with six grenades, frosty cold. We would take no prisoners.
Joey rechecked several times that he had his apartment key in his pocket, and asked me to make absolutely certain that I had paper money. Nothing would be worse than to trek across the vast sea of dunes and arrive at the distant, starlit shore, only to find that we must return empty-handed, except to return to home port and not find haven.
The desert air warmed my cockles and cleared my head. I turned as a vehicle zoomed past on the street nearby and the light left a long blear of light in a streak.
I said, “Let’s take a path away from the street. It’s a bit much.”
Joey nodded. He said, “A quite stroll along the edge of the canal would be lovely this time of night.”
The dark waters reflected the stars above, and the moon peaked over the mountains to the east. She would ride full and hard, sailing though the galaxies and unknown planets as we made our way.
The stars created new constellations, and Joey pulled my arm.
He said, “Mind the water below, it’s a bit late to take a swim.”
I had almost walked right off the canal’s edge.
(To be continued)
All manner of delight from various concoctions and intoxications across this here planet that have been discovered and documented by brave and diligent souls in pursuit of happiness,
Well,
They are written on a map for the inquisitive explorer. There be deep sea ahead with trenches and frightful, strange creatures, and shoals with Sirens, and all manner of head hunters and voodoo afoot upon landing, and these must be avoided at all costs.
Then, there are the other paths.
Choose wisely where you will chart your course.
Smokes? Yes, smokes. They were our X on the treasure map for this first sail upon the sea of Zid.
zidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzidzid
I carried a bag with six grenades, frosty cold. We would take no prisoners.
Joey rechecked several times that he had his apartment key in his pocket, and asked me to make absolutely certain that I had paper money. Nothing would be worse than to trek across the vast sea of dunes and arrive at the distant, starlit shore, only to find that we must return empty-handed, except to return to home port and not find haven.
The desert air warmed my cockles and cleared my head. I turned as a vehicle zoomed past on the street nearby and the light left a long blear of light in a streak.
I said, “Let’s take a path away from the street. It’s a bit much.”
Joey nodded. He said, “A quite stroll along the edge of the canal would be lovely this time of night.”
The dark waters reflected the stars above, and the moon peaked over the mountains to the east. She would ride full and hard, sailing though the galaxies and unknown planets as we made our way.
The stars created new constellations, and Joey pulled my arm.
He said, “Mind the water below, it’s a bit late to take a swim.”
I had almost walked right off the canal’s edge.
(To be continued)
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The Urbane Spaceman
- Super Drunkard
- Posts: 192
- Joined: Sun Feb 02, 2014 5:18 pm
ZID 5 The Island
We arrived at the cross walk. Lights from speeding automobiles bleared in long trails from left to right and from right to left, bereft of our own mental direction, and in spite of its loss.
Light from above comforted my eyes from the spinning stars that revealed the demise of our western societal construct; for space is the eternity that holds no forgiveness for our one-second of existence, no matter how much sad folks adore the lives of their own Hollywood stars.
The ends of the cigarettes we held in our fingers glowed truer and more brightly and held much more significance.
Joey looked long and hard, and he sucked that cigarette like a man about to walk the plank. He was going to cross.
I didn’t think I could follow him. I hung back a bit.
Ya know, that cig tasted damned fine.
But,
It was my last one.
He was right, that fucking bastard. We had smoked the last of them in order to get more and fuck hell did I want more.
He waited, and he looked back at me as them blears and streaks of light dissipated.
What would you have done?
Wait?
Hide?
Are you one to stand upon the dock, waving your doily in your dainty hand to pray for the return of a ship?
Joey turned and winked at me, and then he swung his head forward and looked left and right, and he fucking embarked.
I stood there, and the feeling of being left behind overwhelmed me. I did not come all this way to abandon my navigator. He brought me this far, that punk bastard. He owed it to me.
Fuck the widow’s walk atop the roof.
He stood on the island between the lanes and looked back at me as I leapt forward. I went for the island.
The way that his eyes widened hit me
.
Light from above comforted my eyes from the spinning stars that revealed the demise of our western societal construct; for space is the eternity that holds no forgiveness for our one-second of existence, no matter how much sad folks adore the lives of their own Hollywood stars.
The ends of the cigarettes we held in our fingers glowed truer and more brightly and held much more significance.
Joey looked long and hard, and he sucked that cigarette like a man about to walk the plank. He was going to cross.
I didn’t think I could follow him. I hung back a bit.
Ya know, that cig tasted damned fine.
But,
It was my last one.
He was right, that fucking bastard. We had smoked the last of them in order to get more and fuck hell did I want more.
He waited, and he looked back at me as them blears and streaks of light dissipated.
What would you have done?
Wait?
Hide?
Are you one to stand upon the dock, waving your doily in your dainty hand to pray for the return of a ship?
Joey turned and winked at me, and then he swung his head forward and looked left and right, and he fucking embarked.
I stood there, and the feeling of being left behind overwhelmed me. I did not come all this way to abandon my navigator. He brought me this far, that punk bastard. He owed it to me.
Fuck the widow’s walk atop the roof.
He stood on the island between the lanes and looked back at me as I leapt forward. I went for the island.
The way that his eyes widened hit me
.
-
The Urbane Spaceman
- Super Drunkard
- Posts: 192
- Joined: Sun Feb 02, 2014 5:18 pm
ZID 6 The Island of Fear
I made it to the island just as a new batch of cars zoomed past on both sides. It was disorienting. I began to remember a distant time, when the world was constructed differently, and thought of painted lines… and traffic lights. That was it. An intersection. We were not at an intersection.
There were no lights, no painted lines, no stopping for pedestrians. We had run across three lanes of fast traffic while being blitzed out of our minds. The cars dissipated again, leaving a far of night hawk to chirrup along the canal beneath the thoroughfare, looking for his next snack.
Joey said, “Now we lie down and look up into the night sky. You, up over there. I’ll lie down over here. There’s just enough room. Quick!”
I abided.
The stars moved slowly about, visiting neighbors and relatives, and some of them began to dance together in a silent waltz.
Their solace and beauty calmed the racing, speeding flashes of thought in my mind, and I became entranced.
Their quiet, majestic grace exploded in a loud blur of lights and the roar of engines above, passing in opposite directions. I felt like I was spinning, for one half of the world was going one way, and the other, in the exact opposite direction.
I screamed at the top of my lungs in shock and fear. Joey followed suit, and then he started laughing his arse off. That made me laugh as well. It was like a sort of release or something.
The silence returned like a vacuum in the night air. He grabbed my hand and hauled me up and said, “That was fucking awesome!”
I nodded and shouted, “Let’s do it again!”
He just smiled and ran off across the other side of the thoroughfare, leaving me there grinning like a fool.
I lied back down and it happened all over again. I could have stayed there all night. The rush of the unexpected gave a cheap thrill of adrenaline and endorphins. I mean, it was expected, for the traffic lights of Fuckno are timed together. Driving at either 34 miles per hour or 51, or Gawd forbid 68 mph, you would not hit a red light. But lying there in the desert silt on a meridian in the middle of traffic at midnight and blasted on ZID made it hard to tell time by Circadian method.
Another release and rush, and that was good enough for me.
I rose back up, all dusty like a desert cowboy ghost, forgotten among the sage brush and pinion trees…
…And I could not see Joey anywhere at all.
Hell, I was not certain from which direction I had come, and where to go next.
.
There were no lights, no painted lines, no stopping for pedestrians. We had run across three lanes of fast traffic while being blitzed out of our minds. The cars dissipated again, leaving a far of night hawk to chirrup along the canal beneath the thoroughfare, looking for his next snack.
Joey said, “Now we lie down and look up into the night sky. You, up over there. I’ll lie down over here. There’s just enough room. Quick!”
I abided.
The stars moved slowly about, visiting neighbors and relatives, and some of them began to dance together in a silent waltz.
Their solace and beauty calmed the racing, speeding flashes of thought in my mind, and I became entranced.
Their quiet, majestic grace exploded in a loud blur of lights and the roar of engines above, passing in opposite directions. I felt like I was spinning, for one half of the world was going one way, and the other, in the exact opposite direction.
I screamed at the top of my lungs in shock and fear. Joey followed suit, and then he started laughing his arse off. That made me laugh as well. It was like a sort of release or something.
The silence returned like a vacuum in the night air. He grabbed my hand and hauled me up and said, “That was fucking awesome!”
I nodded and shouted, “Let’s do it again!”
He just smiled and ran off across the other side of the thoroughfare, leaving me there grinning like a fool.
I lied back down and it happened all over again. I could have stayed there all night. The rush of the unexpected gave a cheap thrill of adrenaline and endorphins. I mean, it was expected, for the traffic lights of Fuckno are timed together. Driving at either 34 miles per hour or 51, or Gawd forbid 68 mph, you would not hit a red light. But lying there in the desert silt on a meridian in the middle of traffic at midnight and blasted on ZID made it hard to tell time by Circadian method.
Another release and rush, and that was good enough for me.
I rose back up, all dusty like a desert cowboy ghost, forgotten among the sage brush and pinion trees…
…And I could not see Joey anywhere at all.
Hell, I was not certain from which direction I had come, and where to go next.
.
Re: The Zid Chapters
Side note. never go #2 whilst tripping. I lost a week one night doing that.
Now you're ready for some anti-dry-otics!-BeerMakesMeSmarter
If worms had daggers, birds wouldn't fuck with them-Todd Snider
Blackout and be extraordinary-Absinthe of Malice
If worms had daggers, birds wouldn't fuck with them-Todd Snider
Blackout and be extraordinary-Absinthe of Malice
-
The Urbane Spaceman
- Super Drunkard
- Posts: 192
- Joined: Sun Feb 02, 2014 5:18 pm
ZID 7 CROSS OVER
In the silence between the onslaught of speedy
delightful blears and smears of car,
The night hawk chirruped; his beak all a-meaty,
And there was Joey, who stood off afar.
He motioned me over to his little plot
To join him before the next spin of the world.
I leapt from the island, or rather, I shot
A cannonball heavily crafted and hurled.
The zoom and the mass of them cars getting closer
Awakened adrenaline left in the rush
Of Zid in the blood of a newbie (not poseur),
I sped ahead of the imminent crush.
A flight, a landing, and welcome respite
From wandering, spinning and dusty con-trailing
I ran wildly flailing without getting hit
And there was Joey, a friend without failing.
I'd made it across.
(please bear with me, back from travel. Or, bare with me, if that is your thing. Rock on as you will.)
delightful blears and smears of car,
The night hawk chirruped; his beak all a-meaty,
And there was Joey, who stood off afar.
He motioned me over to his little plot
To join him before the next spin of the world.
I leapt from the island, or rather, I shot
A cannonball heavily crafted and hurled.
The zoom and the mass of them cars getting closer
Awakened adrenaline left in the rush
Of Zid in the blood of a newbie (not poseur),
I sped ahead of the imminent crush.
A flight, a landing, and welcome respite
From wandering, spinning and dusty con-trailing
I ran wildly flailing without getting hit
And there was Joey, a friend without failing.
I'd made it across.
(please bear with me, back from travel. Or, bare with me, if that is your thing. Rock on as you will.)
-
The Urbane Spaceman
- Super Drunkard
- Posts: 192
- Joined: Sun Feb 02, 2014 5:18 pm
Re: The Zid Chapters
It's important that when you have embarkened upon the mighty sea of ZID that you accompany yourself with a true navigator.
That was Joseph Edward Sanchez.
He grabbed my arm just in time as the next onslaught of speedy vehicles could have run me down, or worse, stopped this here Drunkard from having the enjoyment of another cigarette.
What a mess it would have made, but do you know, all I thought of was the next pack of them lovely tasties.
Perhaps it is the best thing, after all, to have a second pair of eyes, hands, and brains to navigate in the world, when you have none of either, and any of the above.
We continued.
.
That was Joseph Edward Sanchez.
He grabbed my arm just in time as the next onslaught of speedy vehicles could have run me down, or worse, stopped this here Drunkard from having the enjoyment of another cigarette.
What a mess it would have made, but do you know, all I thought of was the next pack of them lovely tasties.
Perhaps it is the best thing, after all, to have a second pair of eyes, hands, and brains to navigate in the world, when you have none of either, and any of the above.
We continued.
.
-
mistah willies
- Drinking Like W.C.
- Posts: 6747
- Joined: Wed Jan 16, 2013 9:48 pm
- Location: A ship upon the vast ocean of the Mighty MDM
- Contact:
Re: The Zid Chapters
Ya know, I'd like to know where's the rest of this tale. It started out pretty good, then what happened?
Can we drink now? ---peetie44
At rock bottom, there is no down. ---The Oett
^ ^ ^ Yes his entire cutlery set and all utensils are made from assorted broken bottles.--- The Artful Detective
Just remember Hugh: a good cocktail in a shitty glass is better that a shitty cocktail in a pretty glass.---The Badfellow
I'll buy the first round if you promise to stop being a cunt. --- Dear Booze
At rock bottom, there is no down. ---The Oett
^ ^ ^ Yes his entire cutlery set and all utensils are made from assorted broken bottles.--- The Artful Detective
Just remember Hugh: a good cocktail in a shitty glass is better that a shitty cocktail in a pretty glass.---The Badfellow
I'll buy the first round if you promise to stop being a cunt. --- Dear Booze
-
booznik
- King Cockeyed
- Posts: 1545
- Joined: Sat May 03, 2014 2:29 pm
- Location: People's Republic of SoCal
Re: The Zid Chapters
That martini-head has been drinking himself again. It's a hazard when you're a walking cocktail.mistah willies wrote:Ya know, I'd like to know where's the rest of this tale. It started out pretty good, then what happened?
"Booznik. Smooth, classy and manatee-like." --Bur
"Oh, you've been reading your Sir Kenelm Digby, haven't you? Stick to the mead recipes, especially that of the Mayor of Moscovy. That shizz is SACK!!!" --Badfellow
"Now stop and DRINK! bastards." --mistah willies
"A stand alone place for booze is as essential for a home, as is a bed to sleep on." --Miklo
"Oh, you've been reading your Sir Kenelm Digby, haven't you? Stick to the mead recipes, especially that of the Mayor of Moscovy. That shizz is SACK!!!" --Badfellow
"Now stop and DRINK! bastards." --mistah willies
"A stand alone place for booze is as essential for a home, as is a bed to sleep on." --Miklo
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The Urbane Spaceman
- Super Drunkard
- Posts: 192
- Joined: Sun Feb 02, 2014 5:18 pm
Re: The Zid Chapters
Indeed.booznik wrote:That martini-head has been drinking himself again. It's a hazard when you're a walking cocktail.mistah willies wrote:Ya know, I'd like to know where's the rest of this tale. It started out pretty good, then what happened?
Like the snake swallowing it's own tale,
so to speak.
As you wish...
Be right back.