Click Click Monday Blammmm!!!
Solomon Grundy wakes up on a Monday and makes a ton of noise unfolding the rusty ironing board. It screams while being pulled apart. I've been awake for two hours trying to figure out a reason for not going to work. I am inside a boiling sleeping bag on the hard wood floor of my unfurnished bedroom. He puts creases in his jeans and italian disco shirt. The iron leaks water onto the floor. He sops it up with his girlfriend's skirt. I crawl through the door crack squeezing just between.
"How is you getting up now and you no late for work Sinestro," he growls at me from a crack lipped snarl far under a thick heavy brow. He works, minimum wage, for the Injustice League.
"Well.......i have this power ring that let's me teleport to work. Remember? I've offered to teleport you to work but....."
"Teleportation is faggy. Solomon Grundy no fairy! Grundy no swing chocoletto."
"Solomon Grundy no fairy yet Solomon Grundy come home from work, put on robe, sit on couch with legs curled under him watching entertainment tonight and drinking frozen margaritas all evening," Sinestro answer tired of Solomon Grundy's....damn it, now he has me talking like him.
I put my suit on and find there is a hole in the waist. My thick belt will hide it. Later i'll have to sew it. I could use my ring to fix it but i forgot to charge it the night before and there are only a few bars of power left. I'll need those to call temo agencies to see if there are any villainous night job openings. Looking in the mirror i groan because my head is so big.
The subway ride sucks. Some woman is giving me the scowl. Her face is all twisted up with hatred. The whole ride she has that face on then i realize her face is frozen in that hideous pose by palsy. Palsy or something. I had a friend like that when i was a kid. She'd had a baby and half of her face went slack while the other was set in terror stone. It has nothing at all to do with me. Awesome!
When i get to my cubicle there are IT guys sitting on my desk talking about their favorite porno actresses. They don't move when i sit down and turn on my computer. I hear my boss say, from behind her closed door, "I made a mistake," talking to no one. I put on my headphones and listen to Segun Bucknor all morning while logging secret identities into our criminal database. "you killing me killing me killing me," he sings.
My life sucks.
"How is you getting up now and you no late for work Sinestro," he growls at me from a crack lipped snarl far under a thick heavy brow. He works, minimum wage, for the Injustice League.
"Well.......i have this power ring that let's me teleport to work. Remember? I've offered to teleport you to work but....."
"Teleportation is faggy. Solomon Grundy no fairy! Grundy no swing chocoletto."
"Solomon Grundy no fairy yet Solomon Grundy come home from work, put on robe, sit on couch with legs curled under him watching entertainment tonight and drinking frozen margaritas all evening," Sinestro answer tired of Solomon Grundy's....damn it, now he has me talking like him.
I put my suit on and find there is a hole in the waist. My thick belt will hide it. Later i'll have to sew it. I could use my ring to fix it but i forgot to charge it the night before and there are only a few bars of power left. I'll need those to call temo agencies to see if there are any villainous night job openings. Looking in the mirror i groan because my head is so big.
The subway ride sucks. Some woman is giving me the scowl. Her face is all twisted up with hatred. The whole ride she has that face on then i realize her face is frozen in that hideous pose by palsy. Palsy or something. I had a friend like that when i was a kid. She'd had a baby and half of her face went slack while the other was set in terror stone. It has nothing at all to do with me. Awesome!
When i get to my cubicle there are IT guys sitting on my desk talking about their favorite porno actresses. They don't move when i sit down and turn on my computer. I hear my boss say, from behind her closed door, "I made a mistake," talking to no one. I put on my headphones and listen to Segun Bucknor all morning while logging secret identities into our criminal database. "you killing me killing me killing me," he sings.
My life sucks.
posted by Herminio Jacome at 12/06/2004 07:27:00 AM
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