The Dangers Of Fire; Pitch The Smoker Out The Window

 

So. The fires are still burning Central Texas to a crisp, but my iron wood bat has gone unused. I was so angry yesterday about the asshole pitching his lit cigarette out his window that I lost my composure.

I think I’m also mad at myself for blowing the chance at sex with SAC Ellen Friday night, the first since a month ago and last until three more weeks. I’m afraid that my recent purchases of Ivory soap will send prices soaring. Ivory soap, when brought to a frothy lather, is my lubricant of choice for personal sexing. I’ve been taking so many showers that my skin looks like a lizard.

It’s just that fire scares me more than any other disaster. And let’s hang on for a second. Why doesn’t lizard have two z’s? Lizzard and gizzard and wizzard blizzard are each words better off with the second z. Who’s the asshole that decided to take the second z out of lizard and wizard?

Fire scares me like no other danger. I’m sure it was all of those fire-and-brimstone sermons back when I was a kid and still going to the fucking Baptist church. Pastor Browningwell standing on the stage, pacing back and forth, thumping his big Bible and telling us about how terrible the fires of hell would feel if we drank whiskey or danced or fornicated.

I understood the whiskey and dancing parts of those sermons from a very early age. We Johnsons have been drinking whiskey and dancing forever. As a young child, I was danced around from infancy, cradled in some adult’s arms to whatever music was playing. And I started sneaking drinks from the highball glasses and beer cans that sat on the side tables and on the porch as soon as I could walk.

I didn’t quite grasp the full hellish natures of the fornication part until I was raped by one of the Baptist Deacons at that same Baptist church.

But fire scares me.

So does the current state of politics in America. The polarizing rhetoric is frightening and the anger displayed by supporters on both sides seems fire-fed. OK, maybe the politicians are feeding the fires of their supporters, but don’t allow my confusing syntax muddle my point.

Fire exists to keep us warm and cook our food. Like guns, fire in the wrong hands is tragic. Maybe that’s why they’re called firearms—to remind you of their danger.

Like Rizzy said, “We’re in a drought people.”

Manana, y’all.

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2 Responses to “The Dangers Of Fire; Pitch The Smoker Out The Window”

  1. Brandon says:

    This seems like an episode of “deep thoughts” by jack handy…

    Speaking of ‘jack’ and ‘handy’ *snicker* …dude, soap? Be careful with that stuff, it’ll burn you up if you’re not smart with it. I haven’t used soap in ages…

    Don’t die in the fire. I’m working on some burning books for you…

  2. admin says:

    Brandini. Ivory soap is 99-and-fourty-four-one-hundreths-percent pure!

    I’m excited to see your designs when ready.

    FLICK RERK PECRY!

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