OK, so here's where I do something rare: write about my "real" life.
I live in a basement apartment in an early 20th Century row house. It's not exactly the most air-tight place, so every once in a while a mouse gets in, which I regard as absolutely the most traumatic thing about my homelife (which, I know, makes me pretty damn lucky).
Today when I got home, I caught one of those quick little scurries out of the corner of my eye. Fuck. Then I saw it several times in my living room running around, peeking around corners, mocking my very presence. It was a teeny-tiny one, the smallest I've ever seen and, yes, very cute. Arrrrrgh.
Let's backtrack a few steps, OK? I've got this old American flag which I recently dragged out of the drawer. It's an ugly one, made out of cheap nylon and faded several steps away from the red and blue standards favored by support-our-troops magnet manufacturers and decal-makers. I had it out because I was thinking of using it for some photo backdrops, and today it was, I admit, rather unceremoniously dumped in a pile on the floor. What can I say? I'm a very patriotic person, but the American flag has never really wormed its way into my heart. I've always been a materialist in the traditional sense of the word, so I never bought into the whole "the flag is patriotism made flesh" ideology.
But... ZIP! Across the floor scurried the mouse! And into the little flag-pile on the carpet!
Call it a panic response, but I jumped up and grabbed the nearest thing... a stack of vinyl records, and tossed it mercilously onto the flag-pile-with-mouse. Thinking that if I was in for a penny I might as well be in for a pound, I grabbed another stack of records and threw them on, too.
So now I have this wadded up flag containing a presumably dead mouse covered by a couple of stacks of records in the middle of my living room floor, and thanks to the magic of photoblogging™, you can enjoy the sight, too!
Soooo.... now what the hell do I do?
(Bonus! Yes, I did think of putting more photogenic album covers on the top of the stacks, but then I decided to
keep it real. On the left is Slave's incredible 1977 funk masterpiece
The Hardness of the World, and on the right is a very strange inspirational/religious album from 1967. To say that a whole entire record of a guy
with a hairlip preaching is uneasy listening would be an understatement. Also barely visible are two Meat Puppets LPs,
No More Heroes by the Stranglers, and
Gyrate by Pylon.)
