Sunday, December 23, 2007
Friday, November 30, 2007
After my last entry I thought I ought to not only avoid tarot decks but also avoid all the card tables. I think Tarot said something about playing cards being based off of the tarot. Or maybe she was talking about playing solitaire with her cards. I don't remember. In any event, I didn't reckon playing blackjack was an intelligent thing to do especially after reading in here what happened to Tarot when she tried playing poker. I don't recall her telling me that but then she does talk, a lot. Since I can't seem to find her, I reckoned I'd do what Tarot had been doing and go back to the slots. I managed to win $1000. I still can't vanish but given that now I can do cards maybe Tarot has vanished....
I keep waking up with a hangover, but the beer helps. I wanted some Vodka yesterday but the bar was all out, except for the expensive stuff. So I had cognac instead. It wasn't the really good stuff but it was passable and certainly not that cheap paint thinner rubbish I've had before.
I had my drink and I felt a lot better. Then I managed to win the big jackpot in the slot machines at the casino next door to where we're staying, which made me feel even better. At least I still have Clyde for company, not that I've ever been much of a people person, but Clyde's never been much of a conversationalist. I hope Tarot isn't getting into trouble especially if she's gone invisible. If that's what happened you'd think Tarot would ask me how to do things, after all I am the expert, and she's usually 20 questions half the time, any way, wanting to know about me and why this and why that. And another mystery, it seemed lately I could never manage to wake up and not have my beard a mess, and then this morning I found out why: the bloody thing is glued on! I don't recall shaving, but the stick on beard will have to do until my real one grows back. I have to wonder if Rogaine would be of any use to encourage quick facial hair growth. Maybe I ought to ask Nathan. He's one bloke who ought to know, especially with his "beard of doom"tm that he used to have.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
So I spent all night at the bar with Clyde, my pigeon drinking, then came back to the room and crashed. For some reason the computer gives me this Blog to write in. Better than nothing but, blimey, does Tarot have a one track mind...but I doubt she'll mind my notes. Woke up late AM and couldn't recall where I was. I still couldn't vanish. I've heard rumour of a virus... but maybe I'm just getting old. I couldn't find my good suit, (maybe it's being dry-cleaned?)just my old clothes that I had on. My hair was a mess as was my beard. I hadda nick some of Tarot's spirit gum and fake hair to fix it as I somehow got shaved a bit in my sleep. I have to ask her why she has that stuff. I know she's strange but there's strange and then there's weird. I also had a slight hangover and the best cure for that is more beer so back to the bar I went. Clyde just sat on my shoulder the whole time. I have to wonder where the rest of the flock got to. I dunno where Tarot went, and although we've got a good supply of cash more couldn't hurt. The dealers were looking at me funny so I went for the fruit- I mean slots. Looks like I'm as lucky as Tarot was with them. I'm staying away from the roulette tables though.
Learned my lesson there... I think. For some odd reason I had a deck of tarot cards in my coat pocket. I wonder if Tarot borrowed this coat. Did I loan her it when I met her at her flat back in New York? Maybe she had it when I spent the night. Maybe it was when we went to the storm tunnel. Whenever it was I had her deck now. Out of curiosity more than anything else, I decided to shuffle the deck. Then I started laying them out more by memory than anything else. The first card up was the hermit:
Followed by the Queen of cups:
I only recall those two because she pointed them out to me. She'd said something like the Hermit was my card and the Queen was hers and then she went into along speech about dominoes or something but I was debating getting a beer or maybe I was nicking a pretzel or something... I forget, so the rest of the cards just looked like a fancy poker deck to me... but then the weirdest thing happened. I wasn't seeing the bar anymore or the cards. I saw cities deserted, Biohazard symbols, vials, syringes, hundreds of bodies in bodybags and men in hazmat suits:
It was scary! Bloody terrifying! And I couldn't see my beer and let me tell you I needed one because what I'd seen scared me sober! I'm sure I saw ol' Bob Bishop (sodding git) in there somewhere too. Then I could see normal again. I still couldn't go invisible but now I see stuff, so at least I don't have the virus but I can tell you it's coming and it's nasty. Also if this is what Tarot goes through, no wonder she's strange... maybe she should drink...
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Anyone who's been following Claude's and my posts over at the Burnt Toast Diner knows that Claude and I have been hanging around casinos, but I won't say where. (We're kinda hiding). Anyway, I have had much time to update my own blog. Been way too busy playing and winning slots once I recovered from that memory hole problem. Still don't recall everything, but now I carry my own water or Coke with me.
That way no one can spike it. I tried dressing Goth to keep nosy men away but I started getting fed up with my hair so I got it cut (see pic at top of entry). I've been careful and lucky. I try not to stay at one machine too long as I don't want to press my luck or arouse suspicion. My talent is for tarot cards, not machines, but I'm doing well enough. Claude's been busy trying to contact an old friend, but he hasn't had much luck with that. I'm not sure which bothers him more: the fact his friend isn't answering or how expensive the calls are. So, it's just me and the slots for a bit. I'm hoping if I win decently enough, I can make up for the phone calls in addition to keeping us fed and housed. I'd try my cards to see what's happened to Ivan, but I've had a bit of a headache since the last time I tried reading. Hey, what do you know? I just won the grand jack pot!!!!! It's like $500,000! Claude was right, slots are fun! Claude's still not back from trying to make that call. Maybe I'll get a beer and celebrate a little until he returns...
Friday, April 13, 2007
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Make no mistake, I'm glad I retired, but the patients were fun. One used to seranade me as soon as I got to work. A good number that used to be there were quite blunt individuals and didn't like it when folks tried to sugar coat anything. I remember one used to say, "None of us are going anywhere from here except in the box and I'm not in a rush!" Another used to talk about our frequent visits from the local undertakers, referring to "stretchers and bags." The way she made it sound, anyone who didn't know better, would have thought she was referring to some kind of Goth version of "Chutes and Ladders" (or Snakes and Ladders as I've also heard it called). And people think I'm strange.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
From what I've seen in my cards of late, I think that my feathered pals and I really ought to leave N- this city, and soon. Claude, if you're reading this, I think getting outta town, if not out of state would be a good idea for you as well, and not just on account of "old friends" who might show up. Don't worry the birds are safe with me. I have a nice rooftop all picked out in-- another city, a safe distance from here. You're more than welcome to join us. This city might not be as large as the one we're in but it does have a couple universities, several decent bars, and plenty of pockets to pick- I mean rich folks who need to be relieved of their excess wealth. There's even a good size Walmart, and I know you like Walmart. As for exactly where, I don't wanna say, you never know who's monitoring this, but, if my instincts about you are right, given the name of where we are going, you might feel like you're almost home there, despite it's lack of a proper "futbol" team (as in what most Yanks call soccer). You could steal yourself a plane-ride to it's local and growing airport. It's also not far from my old friends Dan Webster, Bob Frost, and Al Shepherd. Unfortunately, the "Old Man" is no longer about. He had a bad (and fatal) fall off his white mountain.
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
(pictures done with the help of a decent graphics program.)
Anyway, the first dream I had was strange but then it got creepy. I saw Claude but he was clean shaven and he was wearing this 19th century outfit with suspenders. I saw him rushing around grabbing some books then I saw him grab a hammer and chisel. I wanted to know what he was doing, and if I could help, and I saw him working on this huge granite block. As I got closer I could see it was a gravestone but I woke up before I could read the name.
When I went back to sleep, it just got more surreal. I found myself in some big fancy building and I could hear like psychedelic music in the background and everyone was wearing clothes from like 1969. Someone said we were in Paris at this American Ambassador's place. Claude showed up and he had like shoulder length hair. He hands me this pillowcase full of feathers and tells me to dump it over the railing on the Ambassador and his guests.
I'm about to do so when I see that Nathan Petrelli is down among the guests. I'm turn to ask Claude why we're doing this, but he's walked off. So I follow him. I had to run to catch up. As he goes thru this doorway, he changes. His hair is now short and he's wearing a much more modern outfit, from like maybe a couple years ago.
I look around, and we seem to be in a Police Station, but it's under construction. Someone that I don't know showed up with a bowl of pasta and tried to give it to Claude but I tell him it's a bad idea. So we leave together, this time. As he passes thru another doorway, Claude's appearance changes again. His hair gets even shorter, almost a military-type cut, his jacket, that he'd had on when we arrived, changes from this light brown suede one to a deep dark chocolate brown beat up leather one.
Claude turns to me and tells me to warn Nathan Petrelli to stay away from severely overweight politicians and is about to elaborate on why, when these zombies in gas masks show up and are asking if I'm their mother. Then I woke up.
And this is part of why I don't do drugs. Real Life is confusing and stange enough without them!
Friday, February 16, 2007
"She was like totally bumming me out. I think she went outside or something," I tell her.
The female Elvi just shakes her head and rejoins the rest of her group.
I leave for the bus station, and am totally unnoticed. I get a ticket for Odessa, Texas. Hardly anyone on the bus pays me any mind, which is just fine by me. I am totally craving those waffles from the Burnt Toast Diner. I'm hoping that Claude is at the Diner when I get there as well as some of the other regulars. I won't even get mad if Claude picks my pocket... Of course, that's not where the bulk of my travel funds are anyway ; ) I gotta remember to ask Claude if those avatar pics he uses are actually him, for two reasons: 1) I gotta wonder how you photograph an invisible person & 2) he reminds me of someone that I've seen somewhere before...
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Ok, so, I was supposed to go to
So I leave the casino, debating what to do next, and who do I run into, but Elvis. No, not the real King, but one of the numerous impersonators. And he hit on me. Mind you, I’m dressed Goth and look like a cross between Velma Dinkley and Abby Sciouto. The real kicker is the shirt I have on says “Better to have loved and lost than to be stuck with the psycho the rest of your life.” And Elvis hits on me. I walk away and he tries to serenade me. I run. Then another Elvis, this one much less convincing, one block away, starts. I manage to ditch him.
Then this snob couple is like staring at me so I yell, “Take a picture! It’ll last longer!” And I’m convinced that I’ve scared them off when another Elvis shows up!
“Hands and eyes off the King’s Lady!” he shouts. I reply, “I can handle myself and I ain’t your lady!” Then he starts crooning “Let me be your teddy bear,” and I wanna hurl. He looks the part, but can’t sing for nothing.
So I bolt. I finally manage some decent luck and lose the Elvi. Then I realize I’m in a computer store and buy a lap top, so I can veg at the airport until the plane arrives and gets me the blazes outta here. I swear it's some kind of conspiracy or something!
So, to relax, at the airport, I log onto my blog and do a bit of net surfing. Just when I’m starting to wish that I was invisible, I remember there was another blogger who had something to do with that. I do a search and I find “The Invisible Prophet,” which belongs to a man who calls himself Claude. He’s a very amusing and crafty individual. He occasionally shows up at the Burnt Toast Diner, which is where I wanna go anyway. If I read some of his posts right, he’s invisible. I wonder if he can hide others. I sure could have used his help with the Elvi. I bet he’s seen all kinds of neat stuff. Hey, maybe he knows where I can find the guy I drew. I sure hope he’s at the diner, when I get there and doesn’t mind dealing with a Goth-chick retired nurse…
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Monday, February 12, 2007
I'm also thinking I should hitch a ride to Texas. There's this great diner there that I keep hearing about. I think I need to be there. I hear they allow dogs too. That's kinda neat.