Technicolour Dave Part 1

This one has Structure
12:20 AM



Ten screws came loose and the whole thing fell on my head. Well that's what I told the land lord. I did not even bother explaining the monkey jacking off in the corner of the kitchen. Thankfully he thought it best not to inquire. If he had I might have been tempted to tell him he was helping me make potato salad. Special sauce my ass, or was that the spices. Cooking was never my strong point. Hold on, now that I come to think of it I can't really pin down an aspect of myself I would consider to be a strong point. Perhaps the only a plausible thing I have ever been able to put on the Cub Scout sash of life, would be the fact that with very little for thought or effort I mange to not starve or completely fuck every thing up.



Back the wanking monkey in my kitchen. When a friend wakes you up at three in the morning with the line, "dude, I need your help, you won't believe this", two things are certain, one) you won't believe it nor will you particularly want to, and two) no matter how stupid the thing is that you "will not believe" will eventually end up being your problem and will cause more shit for you than for him. Now that I think about it, that's why we call our friends at three in the morning with the line "dude, I need your help, you won't believe this". Because if we don't, we might actually be accountable for our own stupidity, which would make life impossible because we would still have to deal with the stupidity of our friends.


While the land lord tries his hardest not to stare at the masturbating monkey, he politely informs me that my deposit is pretty much shot to shit from this point onwards. I considered trying to explain my situation, maybe differ the blame, but I had bigger problems that needed urgent attention, like the gherkin jerkin' monkey in my kitchen, which could not be done in the presence of the land lord.

Allow me to meander off the topic for a moment. I really don't think I should refer to my land lord as a "land lord" because this crappy, nothing fucking works, cockroach infested, brocken pluming, off smelling, poorly designed, shit hole of an apartment can be considered a "land". As for the term "lord", he has more the appearance of a gofer than a lord. The word lord has an implication of dignity, power and a presence that announces itself an hour before arriving and lingers three days after leaving, all things he could not scrape will a diamond tipped Jack-Hammer.


Once my shit-hole-gofer left, I turned my attention to the self-pleasuring sapient about to climax in my kitchen. As I walked towards it in the hope of negotiating the destination of its ejaculation, it morphed into a three headed dragon fly and po-go-sticked out the window. I promptly took out my cell phone and called my friend.
"What's up dude?"
"Hey man."
"So."
"Dude, you know that acid you gave me the morning?"
"Yeah?"
"Well. FUCK YOU BUDDY, did you hear me, FUCK YOU!"