About St. Bastille Day

I’m a lizard. And I can type. Booyah

Gnomes’ Political Turmoil Results in a Re-staging of St. Bastille Day’s Coup

 

…TELEGRAM TRANSMITTAL BEGIN…

ME THINKS ME HEARS CHATTER ABOUT POLITICAL TURMOIL AMONGST THEM PESKY GNOMES.

MY PRIOR COUP FAILED – IT IS TRUE. I HAVE YET TO OVERTAKE GNOMISH LANDS FOR ME OWN PERSONAL AMUSEMENT.

BUT THOSE WRETCHED CREATURES WERE MORE STABLE BACK THEN. RUMORS OF AN OVERTHROW OF KING JERRY ARE PREVALENT.

THOSE MONKEYS WILL NOT STAND IN MY WAY THIS TIME EITHER.

THE TIME HAS COME FOR A RE-STAGING OF MY COUP.

ST. BASTILLE DAY DOES NOT RUN FOR ELECTIONS.

ST. BASTILLE DAY DOES NOT COMPETE WITH GNOMES.

ST. BASTILLE DAY WILL EAT GNOMES’ FACES OFF IF THEY DO NOT OBEY.

…TELEGRAM TRANSMITTAL END…

“Jeep Acquisition Day” ~ By St. Bastille Day

Much to my surprise, Gnomeplaya (Master and Goddess of All Mankind, if you weren’t aware), invited me to accompany her and Gnomanatee on an epic journey to Indianapolis to purchase some strange creature, called a Jeep.

At first I was skeptical. Gnomeplaya and I have been living together for ten years she and has failed to invite me to any major life quest EVER. And then out of the blue, I get the red carpet pulled out?! Why now? What’s changed? Something’s not¬†right here.

Irregardlessly, I consented to this suspicious road trip to Indianapolis, Indiana. I have no idea why, but Gnomanatee was then allowed to bring a long a companion of his own. This weird little monkey in a t-shirt shows up. His name was Not Timmy. What kind of name is “Not Timmy,” anyway? If you’re not Timmy, then who the hell are you? Stupid monkeys.

Even stupider, he must have thought I was some sort of farm animal suited for riding. Immediately upon being introduced to each other, Not Timmy climbed upon my back and kept spanking me to go faster.

Goddamn that was irritating. I knew that journeying with this monkey was going to be a challenge, but I sucked it up in hopes that the journey’s reward would outweigh the annoyance of a mentally-challenged squealing primate.

I chose my seat in ¬†Gnomanatee’s car wisely and plopped myself upon the dashboard. Since I have been stuck inside The Gnome Abode for so terribly long, my orange skin has become somewhat pasty. Therefore, I decided to sunbathe.

Lying in that sun, life felt great again. A smoothie from Burger King on one side and a medium coffee on the other….what more could a lizard ask for?

Peace and quiet. That’s what more a lizard could ask for. I didn’t get much of that due to the pesky disturbance of Not Timmmy.

There was a gnome along for the ride as well, but that is nothing out of the ordinary. Gnomes get to go everywhere around here. Gnomes get to do everything I want to do. Gnomes make me sick.

Gnomeplaya said we were getting too rowdy in the front seat and insisted that we strapped into the backseat as if we were babies or mental patients. The nerve. Gah. How embarassing.

After a long, constricted ride, we arrived at the Jeep dealership in Indianapolis so that Gnomeplaya could pick up her Jeep. She seemed to love it more than life itself. Great. Another thing for her to love more than me.

Gnomeplaya wouldn’t even let me ride inside her new blue Jeep. She said that I was a dirty animal and she didn’t want me grossing up me new, clean seats. So I had to ride on the front! Can you believe it?!

At first, I was offended to not receive an offer for premium seating inside the new Jeep. But riding on the grill of the Jeep turned out to be a dream come true. The dusty and depressing roads of Indiana were filled with bugs of all shapes and sizes. I’ve never feasted so well in all my days! Bugs, you see are my most favorite things to eat. Maybe Gnomeplaya has been listening to me after all when I complain about having to eat all that tofu and eggplant that she has around the house and comment about the lack of bugs in her dinners. Hmmm.

The Stormy Night I Met a Manatee Pianist

Tonight was one of those nights that it didn’t feel right to stay in and it didn’t feel right to go out. I’ve been kinda down in the dumps for whatever reason the last few days. And while the thought of being around those wretched gnomes made me want to vomit, I still couldn’t stand to see the inside of sterile, impersonal room a minute longer.

So I went to a piano bar and got drunk. Whatever, don’t judge me.

It was lightly raining and I kept seeing lightning in the distance. However, I knew a crawl would help clear my mind. The piano bar was only a mile and three quarters crawl from the Gnome Abode. It’s not like I can’t use the exercise anyway.

The evening’s performer was a chubby manatee who played the most beautiful techno version of Mozart’s Turkish March that I’ve ever heard. I hung around the bar after the performance ended, in hopes that I would have a chance to praise the manatee genius for his talent and inspiration.

He and I have been sipping brandy for the past hour or so. I think we really have a lot in common, in a totally non-weird kind of way. He is apparently really into trains. I don’t really get it, but whatever. I’m sure he told me his name when we first introduced ourselves. But I’m so bad at names. So yeah…

I know it’s after midnight and I should probably get home and get to sleep. But then again, who know when such another awesome night like this will happen?

What do you think? Should I at least stick around til last call? I mean, it’s not really safe to go out into thunderstorms anyway really, is it ?