"And you may find yourself
living in a shotgun shack
And you may find yourself
And you may find yourself
in another part of the world
And you may find yourself
And you may find yourself
behind the wheel of a large automobile
And you may find yourself
And you may find yourself
in a beautiful house, with a beautiful Wife
And you may ask yourself-
And you may ask yourself-
well...how did I get here?"
This is a question I ask myself constantly, but especially when I find myself, like this last weekend, in a village with population 324 in the middle of Don Quixoteland eating, I kid you not, brain, tripe, and pig ears for dinner.
I´ve always thought the fact that I can easily tune Spanish out and shut off all the shit-talking noise around me was a plus, but I´m realizing this might be a disadvantage when your organ-indulging, culinarily derranged in-laws, are ordering your dinner for you.
"And you may ask yourself
What is that beautiful house?
And you may ask yourself
Where does that highway go?
And you may ask yourself
Am I right? ...am I wrong?
And you may tell yourself:
This is the precise moment when you close your eyes and suddenly your brothers in-law convert into Lollypop Guild members and Glenda, the good witch appears in her pink bubble and hooks you up with some rockin ruby slippers that you click together and say:
"There´s no place like home, there´s no place like home"
And then you open your eyes and you find yourself here instead (I´ll be the blonde):
And all this Don Quixoteland, organ-eating madness was just part of a really long dream that was sometimes an adventure, sometimes erotic, but sometimes a tooth-spitting, naked-in-public nightmare.
And someone hands you a margarita on the rocks and a salty tear drips into it, but it´s okay, cause you like your margaritas with lots of salt.
And someone hands you a margarita on the rocks and a salty tear drips into it, but it´s okay, cause you like your margaritas with lots of salt.
And someone is roasting hot dogs. Yummmm.
But then you realize what hot dogs are made of.
"Same as it ever was...
same as it ever was...
same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...
same as it ever was...
same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...
same as it ever was..."
same as it ever was...
same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...
same as it ever was...
same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...
same as it ever was..."
And then you open your eyes and you snap back to surreality and say, fuck it, "Please pass the ears".
-Bluestreak
Modern Outdoor Dining by Spacepotatoe from Flickr.
Italicized are lyrics from Once in a Lifetime by Talking Heads.
Posts
16 comments:
Ahhh Bluestreak...you are brave. God. I've never been as brave as you...to LIVE 'there'. But have been out of the US for long enough periods that there were two of me...Dorothy who wanted to go home and some other lady who wanted to start looking for flat to let. Thank you for this post. And thanks for letting me groove on The Talking Heads a little bit this morning.
Yeah. There's that whole thing. But I admit I've always thought those ruby red slippers are a must have and have discovered I kind of like the 'new' version of the Wicked Witch in 'Wicked' as a domestic terrorist.
Can I be the guy in the apron?
Fantastic post. I would never have left the States if it really was like that photo - that sort of Blue Sky American Dream. Problem is, it ain't.
I'm well besotted with My Blue Streak now.
Nearly forgot - that Talking Heads song? One of my favorites. Along with Nothing But Flowers
I feel your pain-- I haven't gone down the eating kangaroo path yet, and am hoping not to.
The blonde has a pretty dress.
Dude, I can't believe you ate ears. Did they taste like chicken?
I think this is your best yet.. "You got it. You got it."
rassles - you´re funny as hell. At least your apostrophes aren´t all ape-shit.
afreeman - sure! He´s got a wicked apron, eh? you´re right about the photo, but it does look mysteriously like Phoenix, where I´m from, that´s why I found it oh so appropriate.
Floridagirl - oh damn, kangaroo. Yeah, I don´t think I could pull that one off either.
Captainsteve - yeah, just like chicken, but with loads of cartiledge.
Amongfoundobjects - thanks, dear. Can I convert to Judaism so I don´t have to eat that shit next time?
You need more Angry Baby.
Key - agreed, if anyone needs Angry Baby it´s me.
One time my husband accidentally ordered veal kidneys while on a business trip in rural France. Unfortunately, his client was there with him so he had to eat the whole plate which reeked of urine. And, to make matters worse, husband's boss ordered the same thing, thinking husband knew what he was doing. The client was impressed. The boss, not so much.
Did you smoke crack again?
If you're the blonde, can I be the guy giving you a weener?
You wanna trade places for like a week? I wanna do a tapas crawl!
oh, i am with you...but you're so much more immersed, i think.
for me, whenever i leave here or wherever, i have this strange feeling come over me...like, wow. i can finally breathe.
i'm with you. well written...gotta go check out your review now! you. are. brave. {not for eating monkey bums...for submitting your blog!}
hereinfranklin - that´s hilarious! I´ll bet his boss was none too impressed.
DPH - I must have smoked something. I would have had to to be able to eat that. A Free Man already has dibs on the aproned man. You can be the hot chick in the yellow dress suggestively eyeing her kabob.
Yo mamma - not if I have to be on that fast you were on.
Karey - but then when you come back you feel like you´re coming home, right?
Hello! I'm loving your writing/blog just in time to see you've moved on. :-(
Post a Comment