Initial Attempt

After peering through the floorboards and watching the lady of the house tippety-tapping away on the keyboard, writing her Blog, I decided it looked like fun – you apparently just write about your day and then you and some other people somewhere else derive some sort of enjoyment from this – and I just like the sound of the word. Blog. Rolls off the tongue like grubs in slug-sauce.

So, today was a pretty normal day, I guess. I woke up at 3 AM and re-organized the kitchen. Nothing too drastic; the vegetable peeler had been in the same drawer for far too long, so I decided to put it in a cabinet amidst the tupperware. I was surprised to find the scissors actually in their designated drawer, so I put them in a Scrabble box. The sea salt I moved from the pantry to a nice quiet shady spot behind a pile of half-consumed bags of miscellaneous chips that will probably never be finished off. Especially since I blighted them with a staleness curse. Except the jalapeno flavored chips, I ate those.

Hm, what else… then I took a package of raw chicken and a big bag of chocolate chips and a nice fat Ashton cigar (there were no Black & Milds in the humidor, pity that) and shared them with the neighbor’s dog. Coincidentally, soon thereafter the dog had a very pressing urge for a massive bowel movement, so I let her out onto the front lawn. Steaming piles of canine scat make for lawn décor at least as classy as pink flamingos, plus they are so delightfully aromatic, whereas plastic flamingos only smell faintly of, well, plastic. Plastic and despair.

It being a beautiful night out (nearly pitch-black, hardly any moon to speak of, and I noted with pleasure that the streetlights were still out – good work, Gimmrbrik) I decided to take Smoochy for a walk. Is walk the right term, I wonder? Does one take a toad for a “walk?” Or should I say I took him for a hop? But then people might hear that and think of that great 50’s hit by Danny and the Juniors and get the wrong idea. Anyway I found Smoochy under the air conditioner like usual, mouth full of fireflies. It made his cheeks glow. It reminded me of the glow-worm dolls. It made me think it would be really cute and funny to dress Smoochy up like a glow worm doll. Wait here, I told him, which was really not necessary. Smoochy is always right there, or within a three-foot radius of right there.

I went back inside to try to find suitable garb, but the offspring of the house really only has one baby doll with clothes remotely small enough to fit a toad. So I took the overalls from this little baby doll and put them on Smoochy. They were too big on him, but I told him that’s the style, that’s how all the amphibians are wearing their overalls nowadays. I don’t think he was convinced, and his cheeks weren’t glowing anymore either. The moment had passed. C’est la vie. I wove a toad-harness out of St. Augustine runners and looped it around Smoochy’s neck and whatever, you know, the big fat lump part of the toad that isn’t limbs or head. Those are pretty much all the constituent parts of toad anatomy: head, limbs, lump. It’s science, look it up.

So I took Smoochy for his walk-hop (Wop? Halk?) The overalls I gave to a young opossum who was rummaging in a trash can. They were a little tight on her, but I told her that’s the style, that’s how all the marsupials are wearing their overalls nowadays. I set off some car alarms. Found some Black & Milds in the glove box of an old Cadillac. They were grape flavored. I smoked half and ate the other half. I left a gecko in exchange. Humans seem to like those. Otherwise, the wop-halk was uneventful.

Sunrise was coming soon, tinting the distant eastern horizon a menacing hue of pinky gray. That’s my cue to return the great indoors. Hey, The Great Indoors, that’s a John Mayer song! What can I say, I’m a fan. Anyway, gotta go, they’re waking up now.

xoxoxo,

Bristlebrak

Boston family resident goblin