From the First world whining department. Why is it that I wait twenty minutes or more for busses that run every fifteen minutes so often? My apologies to Dillon Warnek and his bandmates. By the time I navigated the Metro Malaise, and asked 3 different people for directions to the Columbia City Theater and heard what may very well have been good directions in English translated into Urdu spoken backwards by my brain-which was set to aging rock and roll guru, but boiling with frustration over a bus system set up by Merry Prankster-I turned around and came home. But as we know, things happen for reasons not always divulged in advance. I may have discovered the reason for Seattles costly-yet erratic-public transportation. On the d line on the way home, some dude was smoking something-hand cupped surreptitiously over flame source and smoking utensil-which he would then blow towards the dilithium intake port in the engineering section of his green and orange Transport Class freighter-I knew it must be Dilithium Salts(or crack) he was smoking, because he answered his communicator once while exhaling, barking a curt I told you... to... NEVER... callmeattheoffice, and some of the smoke wafted close to me to identify the smell... there was none. Over the next period of time, I experienced a tortured vision of being connected to a network of mutant soldiers from someplace called Portlandiavilleouver*. They spoke the high language-not as high as the dude on the bus-but I was able to discern that their mission was to make Seattle look stupid by sabotaging cultural aspects of Seattle life. The mutant soldiers destroying Seattles bus system arent even human-theyre OREGONIANS. Lester Yann Loder, out. Remember in the end, the love you make is equal to the love you make. Or not.
Posted on: Sun, 10 Nov 2013 21:15:14 +0000
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