Save the fish! (an event)Hiya gents,
Crossing the local bridge today while eating an ice cream, I spotted a gigantic koi carp fish thing stranded in the shallowest area. A massive fish, easily a meter long, barely submerging its belly in about 10cm of trickling water. Surely dying. It was tragic.
Naturally, I decided to take action. The mission: to scale the chest-high railing and climb down the 20m wall into the canal to move the fish to deeper water.
As you are intimately aware, I am in spectacular physical shape with an infallible grasp of that which is socially acceptable and worth risking one's life. I also own only 2 shirts and 1 pair of trousers. On my days off I wash and wear them as though it were a work day, which is part of my excellence. That inventory is down to one and zero, respectively, thanks to the pesky rusted railing. But I was being "an Hero to a Fish." Though it is probably debatable what, if anything, that means, it can be agreed that the issue of pants is probably furthest from the mind of someone who engages in this particular type of Heroism, to such an extent that indeed he may not be wearing any.
Laws and common sense be damned. I was going to get down there and carry that fish to deep shitwater if it killed us both.
My backup mission plan was to kick the fish's brains in with my sandals to spare it from a slow baking death, as I vaguely understand is the approach to dealing with lame and/or unlikeable horses (more on My Ethical Views in another email; see attached police records).
Some folks crossing the bridge immediately got their cell phones out to photograph my Heroism before I was even to the water. When I got down there, with much clothes-rending difficulty, an unheeded hazard (as in "-ous waste") became much more evident. But I'd done the scary bit by leaping the rail (again, debatable how long ago I did this metaphorically) and had only to wade through ankle-deep shit, glass, shame and floral mucus to be an Hero to a Fish.
Here is something you might not know about meter-long fish. They are heavy as a mother fucker.
I probably nearly killed the thing by grabbing it under the belly in a stooping hug, chasing it around as it employed military-grade fish maneuvers while I utilized my full repertoire of helping actions. They may have looked "clumsy" and using crude layman terms could be described, purely for the sake of pedestrian understanding, with phrases like "thwacky fits of terror" and "idiot gets mouthful of piss splash." But god damn it. HEROIC.
Several belly flops and mouth-gaping body-writhing seizures later (also the fish moved around) I got it submerged in an area of water about knee-deep.
Success!
However, my mission was far from over. One issue, obviously, was how the fuck do I get out of the ravine. Another was, oh fucking fuck what the fuck my hands are all swollen and itchy what the FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME? FISH!!!???
But who cares? Look at how awesome I was. I saved a big ass fish today.
To paraphrase playwright and humanitarian William Shakespeare, "So you're allergic to fish scales. Meh."
Having no appetite for the rest of my ice cream, and feeling I will admit, just the wee tiniest bit foolish, I did get out and managed to flee from an inquisitive police officer who I spotted walking with purpose in my (our, with all the people standing around) direction. No doubt one or more onlookers had alerted the authorities as to the plight of the fish, no doubt reassuring the police that everything was okay because a clearly sane Hero was down there setting the world right by relocating it at the rate of about 2 meters every 15 minutes.
I did, however, stick around long enough to stylishly chuck the last of my ice cream off the bridge into, of all places, the face of the fish -- much like when Indiana Jones pulled that woman up from the cliff's edge, then threw the last of his ice cream in her face. In other words, a Hero's finish.
The ice cream scared the fish, which whirled around and flopped maniacally onto some rocks as far out of the water as possible, where it lay stranded.
MOTHER FUCK.
R
(, Sun 12 Sep 2010, 14:28, archived)
Hi.(
djrich - Live from Houghton Regis got this thing for Clémence Poésy, Sun 12 Sep 2010, 14:32,
archived)
Hiyagain,
I totally forgot to add the "other news" of today's completely true story, which is that my kid, age 11, has graduated from lazily pursuing Google results for word searches such as "oppai" and "ecchi" to reading full-blown pornographic comics from cover to cover online, plus checking out gaping, hairy maw shots on sites with titles such as 女性器専門 まんこ画像. Had a meet-up with the wife over this to emergency impair the laptop with security measures so tight, wet hot virgins -- no! No, what I mean is that the computer is complete incapacitated, bound and gagged in hardcore ecstasy with every hole plugged by raging -- n, no! Sorry about that. It's hard wired, these phrases automatically come out of the fingers. But as physician and amateur erotic novelist Deepak Chopra said, "I was just a part-time pizza delivery boy. Little did I know that these sorority sisters were meat lovers of a different kind!"
According to the browser history of Saturday, Sept 11, 2010, he visited over 40 individual pages and looked at some 200 images in the short time between getting home from school and dinner. None of it is really that good, even. By standards, I mean. You know. (Mom: I know you know.)
Yukiko says she will forward the fish hero images from her phone tomorrow. We are still living separately.
R
(, Sun 12 Sep 2010, 14:57, archived)
Do you have a blog I can unsubscribe from?(
Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Sun 12 Sep 2010, 15:03,
archived)
