the sky over the gatineau hills.

the sky over the gatineau hills.
graham law.

the sky over the hills.

the sky over the hills.
graham law.

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

the truck crap.


so i sold the prowler. that's it that's all, as they say in masham, wherever that is. i decided i'd buy a tremendously less expensive and infinitely more maneuverable high-top truck cap instead. i decided i'd simply put my camping mattress, stove, and especially my invaluable porta-potti all in there and i'd be good to go, so to speak.

the only small problem was finding an old high-top truck crap that'd fit my old half-ton truck, but i did. it's ugly, only it fit like the proverbial glove, and not like o.j. simpson's glove. it was the right fit. at around eleven that first night, i decided to check out how difficult it'll be to get the flap and tail-gate closed from inside. i put a light shirt and pyjama pants on and sashayed out to the truck in the dark. i unlocked the flap, lowered the tail-gate, rolled in and managed to slam both shut behind me. it was really not difficult at all. i was quite pleased. however, then another little thought began to niggle at me, as i sat there in the darkness: how was i going to get out?

immediately upon realizing i had successfully locked myself tightly into the box of my truck, i had to acknowledge yet again that, in sharp contrast to my wonderful public persona, i am actually dumb as a post. i jiggled and fiddled with the mechanism for what must've been three-quarters of an hour. i'd stop and try other things, then go back to fiddling and jiggling. i got my fingers stuck several times trying to manipulate the workings of it. it felt like i was a neanderthal learning to use wooden implements for the first time or a chimp learning sign language. it did not go well. eventually i accepted the very real possibility that i might have to actually spend the night in there.

meanwhile, holding on to some semblance of intelligence, i recalled how stephen hawking allegedly once (somehow) said that 'real intelligence is the ability to adapt to changing circumstances.' i didn't really think that at the time, but it sounds good. anyway, i clawed open one of the little side windows, stared at the opening for a long time. it looked way way too small, but i somehow managed to contort my body and, one limb at a time, slither out. it was not easy. climbing out was painful. i hurt a very sensitive private part, but i don't really need my ego anymore anyway.

"i don't really get offended by all the dumb blond jokes. i know i'm not dumb. i also know i'm not blond." dolly parton. 

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