It’s Goddamned Monday and I want to talk weather again.
What the hell does this portend?
Everybody complains about the weather but nobody does anything about it.
Damn them all.
Actually, I never complain about the weather. What a futile display of defiance.
“Yeah Motha Nature, I’m gon beat you down. Keep serving up those 113 degree days bitch and I’ll crack your skull open.
“Nobody does anything about it.” Right.
That was farcical. Of course, in case you’re wondering or doubtful. Accept the weather and deal.
Not to toot my own horn (which of course I never do), but I think due to my relatively excellent physical conditioning, weather extremes don’t affect me as harshly as they do others who seem to wilt in the heat or crack in the cold. Of course I openly acknowledge when it’s unusually hot or cold. I’m not immune to the sensations of temperature extremes. I’m merely saying that I’m able to withstand them comfortably and much of my mental self-maintenance isn’t fixated upon mundane aspects of the unusual weather. Last Monday’s post, while perhaps expelling a certain whiny vibe, was really just exaggerated despair flailed about dramatically for the sake of the post. Whether the post benefited is righteously questionable, but that was my intention, and thus, I was not terribly discombobulated by the heat.
Seven days ago. 168 hours.
It was 113 degrees.
The city emanated a stinky and suffocating pall of oppressive and unbreathable air, like the underarms of a fat hirsute woman. Within a couple of days, the temps began to drop precipitously and by the weekend we were enjoying cool Fall weather. And today, just a week later, we were given a glimpse of Winter. The high in L.A. was 66 degrees, 47 less than a week ago. The drive to work was marred by drizzle and gray clouds. I drove with my windows down because that is what real men do, even the ones in Los Angeles. My car is so old and filthy that the rain which entered the car and landed on the door sill which caused accumulated bodily oils (I enjoy resting my arm there because I’m that way) to congeal into a dark stickiness. Traffic was horrendous because a rainy day in SoCal is not complete without the obligatory floundering drivers. I just sneaked a look at the 5-day forecast. There will be no 113-degree days in our near future.
That’s a ridiculous and unnatural change of pace in such a short span of time.
It’s earthquake weather, I tell ya!
Fucking earthquake weather.
Next time I hear someone utter that bullshit in an overly sincere manner, l will pile drive them into the concrete.
Earthquake weather. Please, don’t say that shit unless you are joking. What on earth is earthquake weather?
Earthquakes are a phenomena of the Earth’s hidden, geographical strata; wildly diverging weather patterns miles above, in the paper thin (comparatively) atmosphere will not have the slightest effect on internal Seismic activity.
Smile when you say that.
Hey, so I have a startling confession to make.
I, uh, you see…
I wear “partials.”
Which is really just a chickenshit way of saying I wear dentures.
I was born of poor dental health, it’s written in my genes.
I’ve always had shitty teeth and right after my 40th birthday, a large group of them mutinied and eventually were reduced to utter decay in the matter of a year or less. I had so many extractions that many of my molar areas were a barren landscape. The dentist told me I’d have to wear partials.
And I have worn them ever since, but most embarrassing is the washing.
In order to keep them sparkling clean and odorless, they need to soak overnight and being the cheap mother-efer that I am, I shy away from the expensive Efferdent or Polident stuff. Store brand all the way. I ran out of tablets about a week ago and I’ve been soaking my falsies in hot water blended with Scope. Strange, but true. Well tonight, I stopped by CVS on the way home and bought a box of the CVS brand for $2.99. Reasonable. Now I can finally wash these suckers properly in the comfort of my bathroom sink, which reminds me…
That sink has gradually begun plugging up while I watch helplessly and lazily as the drain slows to standstill on a daily basis.
Until one day I finally realize the water is not going anywhere.
This is when it’s time to get off your ass. In order to combat the plugged drain, you turn the water pressure really low so that you don’t overwork the lazy drain and overrun its limited capabilities but soon, if the low pressure trick stops working, you find yourself stopping at CVS where you buy some stinking off-brand drain cleanerl because Drano, as we all know, is obscenely overpriced. I zeroed in on the “Home” section of CVS (which in downtown is about as laughingly understocked and symbolic as you’d expect) and found the shelf display housing their store brand I like. This past summer, I accidentally spilled some on an open wound and I thought I would die. Horrendous. Drain cleaner is as vicious a potion as you can buy commercially in the consumer sphere. It’s nasty shit. All the bottles were stained chalky white with leaking drain cleaner. I finally found one that had no stains sitting lonely in the back row. I grabbed it and ran.
I wandered the store holding denture cleansing tablets in one hand and drain cleaner in the other. Both were generic brands.
I got to thinking. Chemistry was my worst subject…but what would happen if these elements met?
Would the cloud kill me and everyone else in this rain-soaked madhouse?
Or is it possible they are ingredients of an extensive recipe for terroristic disaster?
If I saw a dark and short 40ish guy walking around with drain cleaner and denture cleaners I might be inclined to randomly question his motives.