For those just catching up, here’s a rundown of our two previous installments. After clearing his name in a New Orleans county courtroom, V (Jon VanTorre – left) tore off his chains, took a breath of freedom and heaved thirteen nearby picnic tables into the river. Although the tables were county property, all understood their sacrifice was appropriate restitution for V’s ordeal. He did not use gloves. From there it was off to the pawn shop for a round of drum solos. V’s skills had not atrophied after months in lockdown and his rhythm was as steady as ever. Mr. C greeted V at the door with a preheated seat and a Masonic handshake. While wailing away, V was shown a series of laminated photos of elaborate cakes. Mr. C turned the last page of cake photos, V looked up...
THIS IS THE BLOG OF THE HUMAN DOG.
THIS IS IMPORTANT EVIDENCE OF THE END OF THE WORLD.
ALSO THE OCCASIONAL RECIPE.
One is never aware of their own mental collapse. Although appearing sharply to the outside, it creeps in, drips in really, under the door, into the mind of the afflicted over years. Decades even.
You don’t notice you’ve been wearing the same beige pants for 16 consecutive weeks. The TV dinners all have the same names, but the food keeps switching compartments. You’re certain your teeth each have names, but what are they?
One day you wake up and realize you’re very close to the center of the insanity, with the shovel in your hand and the dirt piled up to the sky and you find it odd that you haven’t even broken a sweat.
It’s a quiet night in the last great state this nation will ever birth: Arkansas.
The roughhousing down at Hook and Ladder Co. 18 has settled a bit as most of the boys have been firmly tied to the underside of their bunks or just plain thrown from second story windows.
Mayor Pike is with his dogs now, which calms him and let’s him focus on what’s real.
The rocketship ride out back hasn’t worked right since 87.
This is certainly no time for your fussin’. We have a national image to uphold.
We keep the Canadian coins in a jar on the floor.
Well removed from the rest of the American Nickels.
Why? Hygiene, but that’s a given.
More importantly, we keep things separate to prevent mouth injuries.
You never want a mouth injury, but you especially don’t want one during this cold.
Texas dogs grow a thick, near bullet proof exoskeleton each March, only to shed it by late April. The rest of the year they are pleasant companions, no different than any other of the lower mammals.
During The Roughening, though, they’re in no mood for joy. They need small creatures to devour and thick Catalogs to chew. It’s of this guide’s opinion that you schedule family events outside this yearly disturbance.