Tag Archives: Nitram

Assface

 TheOldManIsSnoringThe Old Man Is Snoring by Lea Wiertel on Flickr

 

Monday morning, I was so out of it that I couldn’t really get fully awake and make sense. I stayed in bed while Nitram was in the shower, and I was still in bed, mostly asleep, when he got out. He wandered around getting dressed, and the dogs cuddled up to me, and he liked seeing that, even though I felt I was being lazy. I tried talking to him and it came out all mumbly. Nothing was making sense.

He had snored the night before, which he doesn’t often do. It was the kind of snoring that sounds like someone is strangling on their tonsils while trying to cough up a weasel caught in their throat. I remember reaching out several times during the night and touching his head, sort of rocking his skull back and forth on the pillow to try to make it stop.

And I remembered that, when he asked me why I was so tired. I said, “The dogs were on me all night. You were snoring.” He said he was sorry, and I said, “You were snoring… it sounded like your ass was trying to come out of your face.” He said, “Oh… nice,” and almost sounded a bit miffed.

About an hour after he’d left and I was having a second cup of tea, I finally started to really wake up, and suddenly remembered what I’d said to him. I barely made it putting the teacup on the table before I bent double, laughing like a braying donkey! I almost started crying. Scared the dogs.

He always calls me from NJsux on Monday mornings when he’s in the parking lot at work, to let me know he’s got there safe. So an hour or so after my fit, he called, and I remembered it again and started laughing, trying to apologize for what I’d said. Usually our Monday “I’m here safe” conversations last a minute or so. I kept laughing and apologizing, and he said, “Yeah, you said something like I was pooping out of my mouth,” and I shrieked and completely lost it.

It’s been coming back to me once in a while all week and I still get all creased up thinking about it.

*honkshu* … *honkshu* … *honkshu*

Dexter in the Lunchroom

So over dinner the other night, Nitram was telling me stories about work. He misses Tim, who’s a real wiseass, and sounds like someone I’d like a lot, though I’ll never get to meet him now since he’s left for greener pastures.

“This guy Greg just does not stop talking, no matter what. I’m having a peaceful lunch, reading the paper, other people are having their own peaceful lunches — even Greg, for once — when Tim walks in and says, ‘Hey, Greg, tell us all about politics in New Jersey!’ and walks out! That bastard!”

Yes, I’d definitely like Tim.

“We’re all trying to eat and Greg’s forgotten about his lunch, he’s just going on and on and on — and no one’s listening! But that doesn’t make a difference to him, he just keeps going. Oh, I swear, I — if I was a serial killer, I’d, I’d… I’d kill him first!”

I burst out laughing. Nitram goes on about Greg and I can’t stop giggling. He gives me the what look, and I say, “That was really funny!”

“It was?”

“Yes! Did you make that up?”

“Make what up?”

“‘If I was a serial killer, I’d kill him first.'”

“I guess so, yeah. But it’s true.”

My mild-mannered, easygoing mate. He’s going to off some guy for talking too much in the canteen at work. Classic sociopath. Gotta love him.

chainsaw_massacre-16_smallWM

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“There is no Spoon.”

This morning Nitram and I are stumbling round the kitchen in an early morning fog. He has the teaspoon out of my reach and looks to be done with it, so I say:

“Spoon.”

He’s laughing. “Spoon! Spoooooon.”

“What. Gimme the goddam spoon.”

He’s still laughing and I tell him he’s missed his cue.

“My what?”

“You know — you’re supposed to say, ‘There is no Spoon.”

“Why am I supposed to say that?”

“Cos in Dog Soldiers, after Spoon gets eaten by the werewolf — but before he gets eaten he’s in its face saying, ‘I hope I give you the shits—’ but after that, when they get back into the kitchen and Cooper asks, “Where’s Spoon?’ the sergeant answers, ‘There is no Spoon.'”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“How could you forget that movie! It was—” and I have to explain what seems like half the plot, while still trying to make my tea and get half-awake.

“Oh, okay. Okay…”

Christ on a crutch.

So tonight we’re talking on the phone and he starts teasing me about how I said “spoon” and I tease him back about missing his cue and he says, “Huh?”

I think my head is going to explode. “This is like déjà vu all over again, in Hell. I can see my life stretching before my eyes now: Your nose and ear hair will be eight inches long, you’ll have food all over your face, and I’ll be trying to figure out a final solution for both of us.”

“What! What?”

So I go through most of this morning’s conversation. Again. The only excuse Nitram can come up with is “but I was sleepy too.”

“Yeah, and I’ll have a good excuse when the police get here. ‘Oh, officer, he choked on his spoon.'”

I’ll just have to make sure there is a spoon.