Thursday, May 22, 2008

Better bedtimes to come, surely

There's a bull penis in my bed and it smells awful. That's my situation.

My friend Mike would say I'm telling you this because I'm from a small town - just like the one he's from, but a few miles down the coast of Nova Scotia and minus several thousand people. Since the fishery died, not much happens outside of lobster season, so living there, we learned to self-entertain by perverting the mundane into pseudo-events worth talking about, though worthiness is debatable. Leaving out just the right important details, a skill passed from generation to generation of Maritimer, is something we do if only to force you to say, "What!?", so we can keep talking.

Now I live in Montreal - an overwhelmingly magnificent city with a population literally 10,000 times that of my hometown - where real scandals happen all the time. I could tell you about any of them, but old habits die hard and I just want to prattle on about the crusty old bull penis in my bed. The dog jumped up to chew it there. Arguably once the ultimate symbol of male fertility, it's now a dried up stick of rawhide, and it stinks.

At the pet store yesterday, I was reading its list of ingredients at the cash and got as far as, "All-natural, free-range, organic..." before the clerk cut in to say, "...bull penis. Trust me, you'll want to double-bag that sucker."

Now my dog has penis breath, and for the official record that is everlasting web archives, my bed has seen better days.

4 comments:

Wyliekat said...

Hah - followed you back!

You know, I've often thought that Prairie folks and Maritimers have a lot in common - now I know it's true. We also have these tendencies to self-entertain in the (sometimes vain) hope of entertaining others. I always said that it was entertain or perish, in the winter months. If you fail, you risk being kicked out into the snow, mid-winter. Very unfunny fate, that.

Kate said...

Welcome Wyliekat!!

Looks like we have a few things in common! While your people are thrown out into the snow, we toss our rejects off the wharf. Well, come to think of it, maybe that's why we've got a population as low as we do. Hmm.

Nice to see you here :)

I'm Kate... said...

This is hysterical. Its never good to have bull peniseseseses in your bed. I don't recommend it. Peniseseseses (sorry ... those extra "s"eseses seem to get me) aren't SUPPOSED to smell bad. But for the puppy - its ok.

By the way, I've just moved from a large city to a small village - so one of the ways we keep from going insane is to pervert EVERYTHING for the sake of fantastic camera ops, belly laughs and great conversation. And being in Mississippi, there are PLENTY of things to pervert!

Kate said...

My friend "Black Box Miasma" is from a town in Arizona, pop. 12.

We cite that (and the pop. of my hamlet) as the only possible explanation for either of us to have ever been involved with Christian cults as youths. Of course, we were both excommunicated, our incapacity to be saved cited as the main reason. That, and I got caught making out with the minister's son.

Still, it was an entertaining era, and there really was nothing better to do.

Had they not kicked me out, it's likely that I wouldn't be writng about peniseseseseses in my bed. Not even bull penis.

And Kate, with your sense of humour, I think Mississississississippi is lucky to have you :)