31.10.05 | The Practicalities of Tentacles In Confined Spaces and Attics (+ Pumpkin Conversation included free for Hallow's Eve!)
I love squid, me. Living and kalamari'd.
Look at this little fella, for instance. Positively gorgeous. If i was a lady squid, i'd be all over him as only a lady squid can be. Ink-squirts and all! (I'm only assuming it's a "He" btw. Could be a lady squid for all i know)
I think this one looks better
uncooked. Don't you?
But the other morning i was awakened from a particularly and pleasant and sordid dream, by the sound of my new next door neighbours having a very loud party. Karaoke and everything!
"Bastards!" i thought. "Could've invited me!"
So naturally, i went to complain.
Pausing only to arm myself with items procured from my manicure set (Yes it is mine. Don't ask)(Oh ok, ask if you must, but i'll only tell you that as i'd never seen the aforementioned neighbours before, i thought that protecting myself with anything more serious than a nail-file and tweezers, might be viewed as overly aggressive and might lead to... friction. Besides, my manicuring skills are lethal!
And yes, i know that's not what you were going to ask, but i have keep some air of mystique now, don't i?
...So i knock on the door and after a while it's answered by a squid, wearing a paisley print smoking jacket, and armed far more seriously than myself, with a large gin & tonic in one tentacle and a cigarette perched on the end of an extraordinary long holder (y'know, 20's style kinda thing) in another.
"Hello, old chap" it oozed.
"Hello. I've come to complain about the noise. But i've just realized i'm in the middle of a dream. so uh, i guess it doesn't matter that much, after all."
"Oh? How do you know it's a dream?" it asked, waving it's free tentacles around in some bemusement.
"Because you're floating".
"Ah, well. I am high as a kite. We've been smoking opium, you see. So perhaps i'm dreaming you instead?" it tittered in typical mollusky fashion.
Damn! It had a point. This was starting to get stressful.
"But let's not worry about all that for now, old sport! Why not come in and have a large G&T with me and the rest of the crowd. It should be a lot of fun. We've just persuaded God and Satan to duet on the karaoke. They're doing "I've Got You, Babe".
... the next day, while i'm enthusing to Pumpkin about my dream shennanigans, and wistfully bemoaning my lack of tentacular appendages, and how much fun it would be to have some of my very own, she pragmatically points out that they'd be completely impractical indoors. Especially on me.
"You'd always be tripping over them. Because you're so lazy, you'd just drag them on the carpet.
"And have you thought about how difficult it would be to turn around in a small room with them? Do it slow, and you'd be staggering around like a drunk in a skip. Do it fast and it'd be: "Swish! Thud!" as your tentacles whirl through the air and collide with the walls. And then off to the hospital for more bandages".
"Yes, because i'd already have punched you for being stupid, in the first place."
Aaa, she sooo wise! Everyone should have a Pumpkin in their lives to keep them on the straight and narrow. Or as straight and narrow as possible. Granted, my own Pumpkin has a rather herculean task when it comes to moi.
That night, i have vivid dreams about being a posh squid, and living in a huge converted attic space. Troubled only rarely by need for bandages.