It would seem my word alone is not sufficient. I told him to write me a contract, so he did:
Due to extenuating circumstances I, lada, hereinafter referred to as "Thistle," have allowed myself an extended Lost Weekend. Said weekend has involved partaking in nicotine in the form of cigarette smoke drawn into my lungs. I recognize that this has been a temporary aid during these times and I have no plans to further this practice beyond this Lost Weekend or to engage in it on a daily basis in the immediate or long-term future.
I, Thistle, hereby swear to end this habit on the instant I leave Massachusetts soil and return home. At that specific time, any and all cigarettes, cigars, pipes, chewing tobacco, etc. will be completely used and/or smoked. If any of said cigarettes remain, they must be immediately destroyed, gifted, or otherwise discarded. I also promise to avoid this habit in the future, no matter how much I may want a drag to alleviate any stress or bad days that may arise on my return to ordinary life. I sign this in full cognizance of my senses and faculties and in the witness of my dear cousin and friend. May God Almighty have mercy on my wretched soul if I break this contract.
Witness:
T.J.L.J.
Signee:
L.E.T.G.D.
101 Things to do (or don't) before you die - #30:
Do stay in the best suite in a five star hotel.
Don't assemble absurdly difficult jigsaw puzzles.
- lada is going quietly mad
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5 comments:
Saint: The Typewriter Contract would be a good band/album name. Thistle is about as Scottish as it gets
Karen: Oh, christ on a marshmallow egg! I like this saint and I don’t even know him!
lada: If only he could get that water into wine trick down…
Karen: Or water into vodka!
lada: Yes, a toast to modernized miracles.
Quietly mad is out. Go loudly, violently mad, bursting like a brightly imploding, dying star. We'll all be here to watch the fireworks.
if it's imploding, would it be bursting?
Gee, thanks a lot Karen. I string a bunch of words together that I really like -- even go to the trouble of writing the phrasing down in my notebook for recognition in Bartlett's and you have to go and crash the party and poke logic holes in my prose/poetry. It implodes then bursts/explodes; maybe it's not good physics but it's good imagery.
Happy Almost Cubbies Opening Day! You know how tough it is for me to wish well to any Cubs fan, but the 100 year mark makes me feel kind.
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