Tuesday, February 2, 2010

I haven't posted in awhile folks. I would, but I am continually harrassed by a belligerent, co-dependent dinosaur. It really sucks. You have no idea.
Really, a creature belonging to the early jurassic era or something gamboled into my life by way of a time vortex disguised as a dumpster. Taking out the trash would never be the same again.
"What kind of dinosaur is it?" you might ask. Well, this is difficult to answer, but let us start out with a physical summation- oh but I should point out that I named this creature Noam (longtime pygalgia readers know all this so yooz skip the next few paragraphs) and I know it is female not only for its timeless indefatigueable plain ornery bitchiness when being ignored but for its propensity to moan, when I scratch her scaly belly, like something from under the skirts of Aphrodite herself.
Noam is about the size of a dorm fridge when relaxed. Bigger than a Yugo when flustered. I have seen my dear dinosaur Noam truly pissed, a few times, I'm sorry to say, and in this state she grows so prodigious that she would dwarf the commercial dumpster where we first met.
Scales, of course. Zillions of them, each shaped like a guitar-player's plectrum, ranging in color to platinum, jade, carnelian, lapis, dun, according to mood. Quadrepedal when chasing ice-cream trucks (Noam''s favorite diversion) But whenever I play Gordon Lightfoot songs she dances about on her hind legs and tries(miserably) to sing along. So obviously this dinosuar is not a dumbass. She moves like a cat that thinks it's a crocodile and wants to know what you have been reading lately.
Once Noam actually caught up with an ice-cream truck. This naughty dinosaur devoured everything from the sugar cones to the ball bearings. She ate the poor fellow trying to sell ice-cream that day. He didn't deserve that.
Noam was morose and remorseful that day, puking bits of ice-cream-truck-tires, human femurs, strawberry ice cream and the like. (Apparently certain modern ice cream trucks exude a scent appropriating some jurassic pheremone Noam loses all composure for)
"Noam! That was pretty fucked up- eating that ice-cream--truck! BAD DINOSAUR!"
Noam replies, swinging her giant rippling peladon neck, "WHHAGGGHHHHHHH."

So I always try getting rid of Noam but she always somehow shows up again. Hey, did I mention that my pet dinosaur's favorite food is books?
A very expressive and indolently charming creature (such eyes!) Noam is currently out back perched upon a snowbank munching through a stack of National Geographics I brought her. When Noam The Dinosaur comes across an issue involving saurians of her age, the entire house, and maybe town, rock with her paens of anguish "WHHAGGGHHHHHHH!"
Poor thing.

1 comment:

pygalgia said...

Glad you're back!
Perhaps you need to pick up that guitar more often; you know, the whole "music soothes the savage beast" thing.