Blog A Log

The date... July thirty first, two thousand and six. Twenty six years and some odd months from the day that evil was accidentally unleashed unto this earth. Pandora's Box was foolishly opened in a hollowed out jungle by a foolish young couple, on a dirty thatch mat, on a ragged, uneven dirt floor, with dried grass and leaves scattered about as rats and other parasites foraged through yesterday's now rotton substinance. The rancid stench of birth in the air is only intensified in the overwhelming humidity that tries so lovingly to suffocate your lungs. Breathe it in friends... that's the smell of life... and tuberculosis. But more importantly life. So when you're done visualizing the silver lining in an otherwise dire situation... go get that tuberculosis test shot, the one that makes your arm look like someone shot you with a BB gun. Real close like. Maybe two feet away. Approximately 61 centimeters for you readers in outer space and foreign countries. Close enough to be considered point blank, unless you're an ass who's a stickler for details. In that case, you're probably groaning cause I'm rambling. But if it weren't for rambling, I'd have nothing to write. The story continues next time, as for now, we once again venture into the psyche of the animal known as the Jobbernaut. Let's visit another nugget in my head. Ready??? "Hmmm...", thought the farmer. "Could life get any worse???" His best cow lay there, near death, underneath the old apple tree, or rather what was left of it. Years of drought had left the tree unable to produce anything that would resemble fruit for many years now. What remained were a few ragged and twisted branches... just enough to provide a small confort of shade for an old dying bovine. The time hadn't even reached 8:30, yet the temperature had risen to an already uncomfortable 94 degrees. Today will be the 4255th day in a row that the farm has seen such high heat and unbearable humidity. "Hoh hoh hoh hoh", the old farmer laughs to himself as though cracked in the head. His lungs struggle as he breathes in the heavy air. Year after year, he watches powerlessly, as his whole life spirals away from him, everything he knows taken away from the God forsaken hellish heat. Every day he wishes for death, only for death to ignore him and grant heavenly release for everything but him. And I'll finish that later... if I want to. Hahahahaha. I'm stoopid.