… And a madman
Duck vs The Madman
Between 1980 and 1984 I spent way too much time in school… My grades were exemplary, however, I had a lot of problems in school, the biggest one I think, was all the drugs I was taking… I could never get the combination right.
I woke up one morning in the second to last university I was attending with a feeling of dread... Nothing new… But this day I was dreading this one thing in particular: I didn’t want to see the dead guy… I really didn’t want to see the dead guy, and the more I thought about it the worse the dread became. I originally thought I’d signed up for Astronomy but I… Well… Who needs Gross Anatomy anyway? Many schools provide students with cadavers for investigation by dissection, aided by dissectors such as Grant’s Dissector as well as cadaveric atlases… Unfortunatly this school was one of them
Lucky for me, I already knew how to manage dread… Seconal ( or Reds) worked very well on dread, so I took 4 and washed them down with a warm beer. One hour before class I realized that 2 Seconal would have done the trick and 4 was going to leave me blowing dirt bubbles… And I’d never make it to class… Lucky me again my roommate was a speed freak and he hooked me up with some Dexedrine (Black Beauties) NO DIRT BUBBLES FOR THIS GUY!!!! YIKES… Okay so 5 Dexies was too much, so I drank a six pack…. I was pretty sure I had it right.
So there I go zigzagging, on my way to Gross Anatomy. This portion of the class was way the heck down in a basement and it was necessary to observe the utmost care negotiating the stairs to the lab because I was really wasted (thank god) and this whole dead guy thing was not worrying me a bit… Some of the other students seemed a bit worried though, and I felt badly for them… Had I known I was not the only one suffering from dread, I’d have brought a few reds to share but alas…
Some how I had made it down the stairs and here we were standing in a circle around this table with a tarp over the dreaded dead guy… I was standing right next to the professor because it was the one place I was sure he could not see my eyes and discover that my pupils were out of sync with the ambient light, thereby discovering I was totally wasted… His two lab assistants removed the tarp exposing the dead dude (TADA)… He looked like yellow beef jerky… One of my fellow students ran away, all of them got really damn quiet…
… Now I’m thinking to myself: “Hey… The dead dude ain’t so bad… He sure did freak everyone out though… I bet he’d really freak them out if he sat up… Or better yet… Started to sing”
Without really thinking things through I put my thumb on the dead dude chin and worked his mouth while singing (this King Crimson song I’d been grooving on for a while) in a falsetto voice:
… Standing in the sun, idiot savant
something like a monument!!!!!!
I’m a dinosaur, somebody is digging my bones!!!!
I’m a dinosaur, somebody is digging my bones!!!! …
Didn’t go over very well… This one girl screamed and ran… This other guy started retching…
So there you go… That’s how I got kicked out of the second to last college I attended.
BUT ALL THAT IS ONLY THE INTRO TO THIS STORY:
From a long time ago and a far way away came a duck.
Stalking the masses and disturbing a piece or two.
Then came a madman with boots attempting (in his bent state) to rid the world of rat ducks and to preserve the pieces in an american way.
By day, by night, bye bye, by god, the duck (indeed the duck!) was running rampant and and causing quite a mess.
Whilst writhing in delight one Tuesday afternoon he met the madman who beat him to death with an automatic store door; the story to the moral is:
When a madman beats you with an automatic store door, duck.Duck vs The Madman Copyright © 1983 all rights reserved
Not Right in the Head
You know, I was a Psych major but I really never found out what was wrong with me… All these years have gone by… 20 of them with no mind altering chemicals and still… I’m not right in the head, but I’ve learned to embrace it… And I feel better now… I’m feeling better than James Brown.