South of Lake Constance

Groves finally returned from China with enough Won Ton soup to feed a small country. So, without delay, we all hopped on Chuck's stilts and headed for Liechtenstein and had a big ole soup party. In Liechtenstien the Macarena is just catching on, which is cool as Chuck never learned how to do it, but not cool because Chuck is a meteorite and thus has no arms or legs. But, Chuck never ceases to amaze anyone and came through like a champ. He did the Macarena for like three and a half days before we returned home. Chuck liked the citizens of Liechtenstein so much that he decided to let them have his stilts, which will always guide their walker to secret stashes of soup located at all points of the Universe.

In return they gave Chuck a lawn mower engine, three coaxial cables, a pair of glasses, a VW Quantum Door Handle, a fresh air intake kit, five double claw clamp ISO flanges, a bag of seawood cookies, and a clock radio.

Our Subterranean Nether World

I'm sorry I have been neglecting to write in this blog. It has been raining like crazy, and there was a bit of a flood. It flowed into the cave where I live and managed to pick up my inflatable mattress and propel it deeper into the cave than I ever would have thought was even possible. The flood emptied my bed and I into an underground river and then I discovered that Nosferatu had also been swept into the flood and was hanging onto the side of the mattress. His words lit up the endless pitch dark of our subterranean nether world and said:

"Will you give me a ride to the core of the Earth?"

I did, of course, and I'd have to say he's a much better travel companion than you'd think. He talked the entire time, which was great, because otherwise I wouldn't have been able to see. Not that I really needed to. The stream, according to Nosferatu, led right to the core of the earth, and the mattress was essentially unmaneuverable.

When we reached the earth's center Nosferatu, without flashing a word, jumped off of the mattress and flung himself into the giant ball of fire. Huge flaming letters shot from the burning sphere and spelled out the word "OUCH". The letters illuminated the sunken kingdom at the Earth's Center and Nosferatu shot from the core and was bright white with blue and orange flames raging from his back. He plunged into the underground river and the water began to steam. He threw himself against the mattress and it burst open. The air from the mattress reacted with the flames on Nosferatu's back and propelled us like a rocket to the front room of the cave.

Once there, Nosferatu leaped behind the bar and into the screen of the television. It turns out, his movie was scheduled to play at 8, so he just barely made it in time.

Broth from the Heavens

The UPS man showed up early this morning with a package for Chuck-who had no memory of ordering anything from anyone-but promptly opened the package anyway. Beneath the brown paper, was a colorful box displaying these words:

"Telescoping Soup Stilts. Perform death defying stunts while making sure that you never go hungry again."

It took our friend Chuck no time whatsoever to liberate the contents of the box, which were rectangular flourescent grey things made of some substance never before experienced by yours truly. They extended and collapsed as the name "telescoping" would imply.

We took these new marvels outside, and soon Chuck was far above the ground walking on the stilts. He informed us that he was going around the block, and soon returned with a piping hot bowl of Smoked Chicken with Roasted Corn Chowder.

"I looked up in a tree and there it was, resting on a limb. Steaming and delicious. There was even a spoon and a napkin with it."

Without hesitating, yours truly jumped on the stilts and before I knew it I was looking down at the street. Groves and Chuck seemed so small. I could see the tops of buildings, and on top of an especially attractive ranch house, I found a nice mug of split-pea gumbo (no onions).

Groves had the next turn. He said he was going for some genuine chinese won-ton action. He got on the stilts and took off like NASA's Mars Polar Lander spacecraft and we haven't seen him since.

Tell him I said hi if you run into him.

Kudos from the Sea

Beatrice, a self propelled bicycle (manufactured back in the day-literally) came rolling up to the street this afternoon after having watched Facts of Life reruns with a dugong (yes, we thought they were extinct too) at the bottom of the ocean. She could tell I was impressed.

"Oh, but that's nothing" She said.

"Really" I replied.

"I mean, yeah, it's cool and all, but get this: I met this pirate and he told me about a toothpick that could sing any song he could name."

A part of me was sad to be reminded of the Singing Toothpick™-which of course is/was my invention. The problem with creating things like Singing Toothpicks™ is that once they start doin their thang they develop such a taste for it that they run away to seek their own fortunes, which is what happened in this case. The other part of me, however, was happy that my creation was making such a name for itself.

I really wish I could remember how I made that thing.

(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)

After a hearty breakfast of roquefort and cashew butter tartare- Groves, Chuck and I decided to take our music in another direction. Instead of "rocking' we decided to "doilie". And we would have done it too, but then we discovered that during the night, someone had put the entire cave in parenthesis.

"I smell Thrumcap and Coil" said Groves.

Now, for those of you who are new to the surreal o rama, you may want to know that Thrumcap and Coil are dastardly spumekits who owned rock clubs that refused the gracious offer to be the first venues to house Evil Wiener and paid dearly for it-only to try and foil us by tying our pictures to the railroad tracks.

Needless to say, they failed, and what they were trying to accomplish by putting the cave in parenthesis one can only guess. Chuck, whose expansive knowledge of grammer rivals that of any queen or duchess used his Strunk and Whiteout™ to remove said punctuation marks and replaced them with exclamation points-the first of which was upside down and in front of the cave, the second being right side up behind the cave. This, of course derived from the language known chiefly as "Spanish".

Wouldn't you know that the San Luis Obispo Vocal Arts Ensemble all showed up for dinner. They were all the way cool! We've got some leftovers too. Hungry?

The Microscopic Messengers' Request

I've been trying for a while now to figure out how to make avocados more attractive. This seems like it would be a relatively simple task, but every time I start to do it something major happens. Today, for instance, I had just gotten started when these tiny airplanes that appeared to be made of tin foil came buzzing into the cave. They flew in some pretty rad formations for a while and then began circling above Groves' aquarium, where he was trying to nap. One of the planes sprouted a loud speaker and asked Groves if he'd like to come and be the king of a very prominent planet in an uncharted galaxy. Groves considered it, bu† bailed on the idea because we had band rehearsal that afternoon. That Groves, he is one dedicated catfish.

Add infinitum to a gumball and you've got trouble

Did you know that you can grow saltines in caves? Mr. Mouse has a whole garden full of them, which is great because saltines are all that Nosferatu eats now that he's given up blood. I like Nosferatu just fine despite his drinking problem-hey, we all have our weaknesses. Take Chuck, our drummer for instance-he's a great guy but he cannot resist those little machines that have stickers and toys and candy in them. You know, the ones that sit in the entrances to grocery stores. The wierd part of it is, that he doesn't actually stick the stickers on anything, nor does he bounce the superballs or display the glow in the dark aliens. Chuck has discovered a way to use these machines to travel back in time precisely one hour. He manages to get away with it because when the hour is up he simply opts not to use the machines as time travel devices again and thus the owner/manager of the grocery/drug/convenience store is never any the wiser. Chuck wastes a lot of time this way. I wonder if we should have an intervention?

Failed Flight Tastes Right

Today, I gave my mini-disc player to a little bird named Delila that couldn't fly south for the winter because of an orthodontist appointment. She was very grateful and told me that I could have her retainer in return for the MDP. The retainer melted in my front pocket and spelled the word "grapefruit" on my undershirt, so I guess I know what I'm having for breakfast tomorrow. Would you like some?

Bargains from the World Beyond

After waving goodbye to Jackfruit and Santa, Groves found some rubber bands on the sidewalk and decided to start making a ball out of them. Chuck was into the idea and began canvasing door to door asking for donations. He collected roughly 2,536,498,632,154,783 of them. The three of us then fashioned the ball and Yours Truly was the first to bounce it. Up, up, and up it went. When it came back, it had a note from a guy named Incongruous Johnathan who lives on Pluto and owns a shop that sells mini-disc players. He wanted to know if one of us wanted to buy one.

Well, I'd been wanting a mini-disc player, so I hopped on the rubber band ball and bounced up to Pluto. Boy, was it cold. Incongruous Johnathan gave me a whale of a deal on the player.

Dilatory Icons of Winter

Our eyes quickly adjusted to this spectacle, and it was plain to see that these were not just your average flying animals, but were indeed the famed flying reindeer of the North Pole-and that they were pulling a sleigh which was inhabited by the Big Man in Red.

Before I personally even had a chance to really fathom what was happening, Jackfruit and all of his comrades began to fly towards the sleigh, as though some kind of vacuum were sucking them up. They landed neatly in Santa’s bag.

Mr. Claus bellowed out his signature Ho Ho Ho and sped away with his new load of green oblong African fruit.

Hooves Above

There was an awkard moment of silence following this proclomation by Jackfruit. During the quiet time-either Chuck, Groves, or Jackfruit cut the cheese. I couldn’t tell who did it, but I know that it sure as turtle shells wasn’t me. Once the smell had wafted onward-the odd, oblong fruit known as Jack, spoke again.

“My fallen brothers and I are what people here call “Hedge Apples”. In some parts of the world we are even called “Zombie Eggs”. Although these titles are common, they are incorrect. I can assure you that we are neither reddish fruits that grow on trees, nor are we the unfertilized shelled yolks of the undead. In actuality, we are from Africa...

Just then, a sound like that of a retired jewelry salesman imitating a rustly fog horn by way of a jack hammer came from above us. We looked up and saw a sky filled with flying animals.

YOURS TRULY WOULD LIKE TO APOLOGIZE TO JACKFRUIT AND ALL OF HIS FRIENDS FOR MAKING THE COMMON MISTAKE OF REFERRING TO THEM AS HEDGE APPLES. I DIDN'T KNOW ANY BETTER. HONEST.

Jackfruit's Journey

We went outside to look for the Singing Toothpick™ and found that Hedge Apples were falling out of the sky like some mutant green hale. Their corpses looked like those giant green things you put on your hands to make it look as though you have the fists of the incredible hulk, and were much the same color too.

“Oh what shall become of the mulberry family” they all said with their last breaths as they lie dying on the sidewalk and street outside of Mouse’s Cave.

“Jeeepers” said Chuck.

“Whoa” said Groves.

“Crazy” said yours truly.

“The Mulberries will live forever” said a voice that belonged to none of us three and had henceforth never been heard by the Catfish, the Meteor or myself.

We all looked over to see that one among these three foot long, 100 pound pieces of green fruit that looked like an egg with its shell gone soft, was still moving.

“Are you ok” said Groves.

“No, I’m not ok, I’ve just mysteriously fallen from the sky. I am, however, known as Jackfruit and am considerably glad to make your acquaintance” was the Jackfruit’s reply.

“I can relate. Believe me, I can relate.” Said Chuck with a knowing look on his face.

“Yup, I hit pretty hard, and I thought I was a goner until I heard that little toothpick sing. Man, that was the best rendition of “Sister Christian” I’ve ever heard. Why, I think that little Singing Toothpick™ saved my life. “ said the strange fruit known as Jack.

Sonic Tooth

Chuck, looking quite satisfied with his dental hygiene, placed the Singing Toothpick™ on the bar.

“So, you think you can sing any song I can name?” Asked Groves.

“Indeed” said the Toothpick.

“How about ‘Sonic Reducer’” said Groves.

The toothpick reared back and belted out such a great version of this punk classic that my hair spiked itself. Groves leapt from his aquarium, and then he,Chuck and yours truly began slam dancing.

After this, and at Chuck’s request, the Toothpick brought it down a notch with a right on version of “Tiny Bubbles”.

Although we’d just awakened, all three of us were lulled back to sleep. 256 days later, we woke up again to find the singing toothpick gone.

This Most Gifted Splinter

I awoke the next morning a bit later than usual, and simultaneously saw/heard that Chuck had discovered the Singing Toothpick™ I’d invented (see Flutter and Squeak) .

“So, what do you think of my latest invention?” I asked.

“It’s more killer than a Rhino on an anthill” responded Chuck. He then raised this most gifted splinter to his mouth and the sounds of Flashdance (What a Feeling) echoed inside his mouth as the remains of his last meal were scraped away from his rocky enamel.

“What’s all the racket?” Said Groves as he peered above the meniscus of the giant aquarium that housed him.

Chuck began to reply, but before the words could leave his mouth, the toothpick ceased its singing and said:

“I, sir, am a singing toothpick. I can sing any tune that you can name, and I can also free the most stubborn of food particles from your teeth.”

A wave of pride that could destroy all of Hawaii were it an actual wave in the ocean swept over me.

“That’s muh boy” I said.

A Silent Star's Sing-A-Long

“It’s good to see you smiling” said Groves.

The world went black, words appeared, you know the routine;

“I always smile when I think about the kooky hyjinx of Tootie, Blair, Joe, and Natalie”.

“And don’t forget Ms. Garrett” chimed in Mr. Mouse.

Nosferatu’s words again dominated the room and said;

“You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have the facts of life....the facts of life...

Right on cue, Mr. Mouse chirped;

“When the boys you used to hate, you date, it’s time that you investigate
the facts of life, the facts of life...

Something stirred inside, and before I knew it, all of us were singing as though angels had prompted us;

“When the world never seems, to be living up to your dreams. Suddenly you’re finding out the facts of life are all about you......

I broke down in tears under the weight of the moment-and these sobs of joy, like sirens, lured me to sleep.

The Americanization Of Miko

Nosferatu looked at each of us, then to the floor. He took a deep breath and then began crying uncontrolably.

“Loosen up” said Chuck.

“Relax” said yours truly

“Don’t do it” said Mr. Mouse.

“Mellow out” said Groves.

The world went black again, and we read these words;

“How can I expect you to understand the pain that I feel”

“Now listen bub” said Mr. Mouse. “You think being a vampire is tough, try being a mouse. ‘Would you like some cheese? Mr. Mouse? Why are elephants scared of you Mr. Mouse?’ Sometimes just thinking about the dumb things some morons will say is enough to make my floating ribs hurt.”

Nosferatu stopped crying, looked up, the world went black, and we saw these words;

“You mean a sort of achy feeling? Right near the sternum?”

“Yeah.” said Mr. Mouse “Exactly. And the only thing that’ll relieve the pain is to watch “Facts of Life” reruns.

“You like that show?” said the white words on the black screen that appeared whenever Nosferatu opened his mouth.

“Are ceilometers  self-contained, ground-based, active, remote-sensing devices designed to measure cloud-base height at up to three levels and also potential backscatter signals by aerosols?” replied Mr. Mouse.

This time, the words were larger than sousaphones and simpler than salt;

“Yes. Ceilometers  ARE self-contained, ground-based, active, remote-sensing devices designed to measure cloud-base height at up to three levels and also potential backscatter signals by aerosols.”

Thunder clapped outside as Nosferatu smiled.

A Legend Befriended

“You really shouldn’t mess with that stuff” said Mr. Mouse to Nosferatu.

“Users are losers” said Groves.

“And at your age, your old heart just can’t take it” added Chuck.

“Let this be a lesson to you.” said yours truly.

The world went black and these words appeared;

“I know. I know it’s bad. But I used to be able to stay up all night. I would carouse, chase virgins, and feast!!!! But now, I just can’t make it past four o’clock. I’m not as young as I used to be”

“Well then” said Groves “You need to accept where you are in life. Drugs are not the answer”.

Again, we experienced total blackness, and these words;

“But it’s not easy being a vampire. All those negative stereotypes that are so outdated. ‘Can you turn into a bat Mr. Orlok? Do you howl at the moon?’ Fools. Closed minded idiots. Sure, I did some things back in the eighteenth century that I’m not too proud of. But those were different times. I’m a completely different person now. I like playing Tetris, making Prank Phone Calls, grooving to Ambient Dance Music. But does anyone know that? No. They shy from me because they are afraid I’ll suck their blood and turn them into immortal beings sworn to all things evil. All I want are friends that will accept me for who I am, and see beyond age old prejudices such as these”

“Well, you can count on us” said Groves.

“Yeah” said I.

“Darn Tootin’ “ said Mr. Mouse.

Chuck, who was still lying on the ground next to the wall at which he had been flung only moments earlier by Count Orlock, looked hesitantly at all of us.

“Awwwww, what the heck.” He said with a rocky smile.

Chuck and Orlock's Dance of Daunt

“Hey, none of that in my bar/home” said Mr. Mouse as Nosferatu sniffed away at his white powder.

Groves leapt up and out of his aquarium, landing to the right of Nosferatu. Chuck rolled over and flanked him on the left.

“I’m sorry sir, but we’ll have to ask you to leave” said Chuck.

Nosferatu hissed as he turned and lifted Chuck above his head. He growled and prepared to propel the meteor against the wall of the cave. As his arms began to move forward to make the throw- the ancient, hairless, man stopped. His eyes grew large with surprise as he dropped Chuck and clutched his chest.

Mr. Mouse lept from behind the bar and performed Reiki on the decrepit old body of Nosferatu. Soon he was better and sat in a stunned state on the floor of the cave.

The Fanged Snowman

We all looked at Nosferatu, and Mr. Mouse said;

“Hey. Mr. Orlok. Good to see you again, but I’m afraid we’re closed”.

Nosferatu lifted his hand, and the whole world around all of us turned into a black screen which displayed these words;

“I realize that it's late. But surely you wouldn’t deny a new friend a drink or two.”

After a few moments the screen disappeared and Mouse said;

“I’m sorry. It’s after two. I can’t serve any more alcohol.”

Again, the world went black and we saw these words;

“Laws. Rules. What are they good for? If you will not permit me but one of your Monty Python Holy Ails, I shall have to take matters into my own accord.”

When the black screen disappeared, we saw that Nosferatu was bent over the bar, inhaling white powder.

Flutter and Squeak

We didn’t get much sleep last night , but still, yours truly got up this morning as soon as the rooster rang the doorbell to the cave. I spent most of the morning working out a patent for my Singing Toothpick™. I spent the afternoon trying to sell a few big corporations on the idea, (and I will say that I got a few nibbles! Yes indeed I did! You’ll probably personally OWN your very own Singing Toothpick™ by the end of the week.) I spent the evening mastering the art of Tunisian Plastic Sphere Printing.

When I got back to the Cave-Groves and Chuck were doing magic tricks. They made an elevator appear that would take people to Fergus Falls, Minnesota. They turned a 16-pc. Garden Tool Set (with Case) into a DeLonghi Digital Convection Toaster Oven.

Later, a group of sabrewing hummingbirds came in and hosted a tongue twister contest, which Chuck won!!!! They gave him an all expense paid ten second vacation to the United States Library of Congress in Washington D.C. When he got back, things were winding down. The hummingbirds soon bid us a fond farewell and told us to email them if and when our band played again.

When the last hummingbird had gone, Mr. Mouse said;

“Ah well, guess I’d better close up.”

But then we heard a spectral squeal projecting from the end of the bar. We all looked over and saw the black clad, skin headed figure of Nosferatu settling down onto a stool and nestling the bar as if it were a kitten.

Funny, but I don’t remember him coming in.