“What’s the Frequency, Kenneth...”
Every periodically I have a little flare up of Tourette’s... Period being the salient word here... I can admit it... I attribute it to peri-menopausal hormones running rampant... I am not trying to betray the sacred sisterhood but it does affect you... Maybe some not as much as others but it does affect you… It also makes you digress… anyway back to the Tourette’s… This isn’t the true Tourette’s, just a strange PERIODIC occurrence that resembles the symptoms of Tourette’s... I say things... Things I can’t believe I said... Things I shouldn’t say (even if it is true) simply because it is none of my business.... Most people do eventually realize that not everybody cares about their little opinion on things that don’t concern them and when it arises you should just simply make an appropriate facial reaction, nod and back away slowly as fast as you can... Which is as it should be... And is most of the time, except online of course... Whole other thing, different column...
My particular brand of Tourette’s usually manifests when I feel the need to point out stupidity to the relentlessly stupid person that will never understand anyway because they are so stupid... Case in point... My dear friend has a neighbor. She is an idiot... Practically a gork, you are amazed she can breathe without machine assistance and isn’t strapped in a tongue operated electric wheelchair. Every time I happen upon her and that happens as infrequently as providence allows, I catch myself looking for signs of the steel plate that I know has got to be somewhere on her skull... I am completely convinced that if you were to hold your ear up to her head you would hear the sound of the stupid… You get the idea... Now generally when she goes into one of her bewildering monologues about her extended hillbilly family and their various operations, ailments, arrests etc. I just excuse myself by doubling over, clutching my gut and muttering ‘gotta go, bad shrimp toast”. I would scuttle away hearing her call after me; “I had that once”. She will one day meet her demise at the hands of a home appliance…
Today was different... She comes over as me and my friend are having coffee and invites herself to some Mexican dark roast and a cheese Danish... She begins to sigh and make those noises some people make when they want you to beg them to tell you what is wrong... I pretended I did not understand the code, and it was working, but then I made the mistake of asking her to pass the Splenda... I guess you could get “whassamatta Glenda” out of that if you really wanted to, and she really wanted to... She began to unburden herself... Apparently this moron got a chain letter of some type (and of course I did not see the letter because she of course did not make a copy)... She confused herself as well as us with her interpretation of the contents of this letter and if the Da Vinci Code instructions were anything like she described them I can’t imagine anyone actually believing anything but shame and heartbreak could come from sending 500 dollars to a group of strangers somewhere out near Area 51... She was incredulous that she had not yet received her riches, alien shit, and good seat on the Mother ship etc… Whatever it was this fool had signed herself on for... To explain the missing package she put forth the theory that her rural mail carrier stole it from her out of sheer ‘jealousness’. Of course this missing package experience had not dampened her enthusiasm for investing in an emu ranch…
The first thing I managed to get out of my mouth after I recovered from the cheese Danish lodging in my windpipe when ‘emu ranch’ came up was; “I don’t know if anyone has ever mentioned this to you but you really are fucking stupid… gork... govt. experiment...” so forth and so on… It was lyrical, I was freestyling... It was beautiful... My friend cried and threatened to tee- tee in her pants from laughing… For a few brief moments I became “Jew-ya Sugahbakah”… I wish I had taped it really…
A minute or two lapsed and then that ‘human/bovine govt.experiment in genetic engineering gone horribly wrong’ looks at me and says, “For your information, you are the stupid one. Emu’s are very delicious, lay huge eggs and produce a fine oil from their coats”…
I thanked my friend for the coffee and Danish/near death experience, told her and idiot neighbor I had to go... I had some letters I needed to write… and asked idiot neighbor “you still at 1609 Bonaventure right?”…
In Absinthe Veritas,
Tallulah Crankhead
