Was in the heart of the little 'burg where my day-job is quartered and in a street window...wait, let me back up. On one side of this sorta-junk shop store front, with an old-fashioned street-facing window, as in a small town - on one side there were three GIANT lizards, sitting in a faux-tree and sunning themselves in under a heat lamp seemingly appropriated from a defunct Arby's. Then, on the other side of the door, there was another recessed window showcase-dealie with some, well, junk in it - old dressers for sale, a dusty mirror - but on the glass in front of that was a huge green sign saying something about
READY FOR 2012?
and a web address, probably where one could buy weapons and Bactine. Good grief! See, ca. 1998 I got all up in the Y2K worrying for about a month - "Those Russian missiles are hard-wired, dude, and when those clocks flip to zero, they may launch themselves!" You can see I have an expert grip on techno-jargon, yes. And, even failing a nuke-throwdown, surely all power would go off, the ever-grey skies would be constantly whipping flags to shreds and a cold, metallic whine would be emanating from somewhere, and, if you dared to venture out, when you stopped to look over the burning skyline from a high vantage point in town and your hand came to rest on a fencepost in front of you, you would feel something sticky and looking down it was someone's fucking eyes - anyway, you may have noticed nothing happened.
So, I refuse to buy any damn thing extra, except maybe some more hot sauce. Mayan hot sauce, though, to fend off the evil pyramid spirits! Or something.
2 comments:
If you want Mayan hot sauce, look no further than that xnepek salsa I made on cochinita (pork) pibil night. Minced tomatoes, habaneros, radishes, and cilantro. Burn your f*@$#n nose off and love it.
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