The Hours of Night by The Confused Man #5

The Hours of Night

by

The Confused Man #5

This blog is for all the people out there that are out there and who know it.  I shall not identify you any more because you already know who you are.  I am listening to the Canadian Brass, they are very good in a certain Canadian kind of way. 

It would be a good reality show to have the Canadian Brass play a concert at the Corner Gas Station and have the lead actor be Mama Cass.  But first they would all go to Mass since Michael Fox conveniently left them off the show's VIP list without even one seat between them ("seat" is a nice way to write butt.  I know what you are thinking, this is some kind of Rhyme but I assure you that it is not.  I can say with total inequality that I have no intention of using these words for that purpose.

People are such bottom sitters, the first ten minutes of the show was only fighting with Maury Povitch (sp)for the last seat in the third balcony with Sassquawach the wonderdog.  To nobody's surprise they were on the wrong show.  But alas it didn't stick and they are all back to their unusual usable tricks. 

The most famous of them all is the trick of cutting the audience in two and leaving them to find their own partners, such indignity to someone else's top half while having a desire to be someone else.  Only one trouble and the cast members can confirm this.  Why can't they find the answer they are looking for.  The cast members are trying to figure the trick out and put them all back together in the right way. 

Surprise, surprise, but who should arise from the ashes of the previous show but none other than Rachel who was just passing through.  Alas another surprise came from the house where we all lived at one time or another.  He will take total responsibility for his failure to come down the chimney, but instead, it was the old gas man himself accompanied by Bassman the spokesperson for BassMasters fishing boats. 

My (bumm) is getting tired of waiting for Miss Cass to find the one and only key for the massive single holer outhouse built in the middle of the third carpool lane of the new freeway that has just been completed in and out of our city that doesn't even have one person with the last name that rhymes with Lass, which is very unusual in this day and age of rapid transit and horses that are twice as big as dogs of the same size.

Considering that the computer has overcome the pencil in writing the most interesting scripts that the pharmacy doctor or person who is much less intelligent has ever seen, considering again that she can't even open her eyes until the sun makes an appearance from under the cover of darkness. 

The prize for the longest word in a sentence that really has nowhere else to go has been announced at the Nas-car races in Toledo and we all suspected that it would be a tie between two words that no one has ever heard of before, what a Nas-T competition it was and that's why .  What a singular masterpiece that sat and decayed in the cellars of the last true master of sleight of hand and his beautiful Lass who was armed with a Blass-ting capsule to make this one of the strongest initial episodes of Canadian Gas and Electric sponsors, "Come and get it while you can."  By the way, there are some left.  A show about how you can eat and then go away and eat again, my crass interpretation was right on.  Sorry for using words that are a bit too big for you.  It was never my fault that you were not born until you were 12 and missed some of the most important years of your life plus all the education.  You are what the underprivileged call an idiot.  This is no way to reintroduce myself to you.  I am the great and  powerful and benevolent  Oz.

I can fly you across the United States for only $348 if you agree to stop at every city that United flies into.  Once you are there it is anybody's guess if you will know the password to fly back out again and this time in a ten story hot air balloon.  Only the gas that you burn will be charged to your account.  But don't let that persuade you to make the air as hot as you can.  My advice is to go back to sleep if you are of a mind to do it.  When the gas exits your bumm, just a Canadian word for seat, you will have something to talk about. 

How many bumm's does it take to fill a hot air balloon? 

You won't have a problem getting the air to rise and off you go riding on the wings of your own gas. I can't stop and I am getting very frustrated with you coming to me all the time just to ask if it will be done soon and if we are at our destination yet.  I never told you we were headed in the right direction to see our destination so why would you even consider going with me to the last place I would ever go.  I can't figure you out, first you want this and then you don't. I am sorry to say that this blog is ready to be put to bed as they say in Calgary, where they have that big convergence of animals on the certain day when they cheer when somebody falls off the bull and lands on their rear end.

I don't even know where that is or who it was before I started writing this.  I think it is somewhere above the ankles and below the bird who has just deposited a little white and orange liquid from high overhead on your left eye and it has run down your nose to your mouth and into it, just for a small taste.  Not bad if you are the dumbest person in the whole world.  I fear I am becoming as confused as the person who wrote this letter . 

Barbara, are you up yet, Barbara, Barbara get your big, fat derriere up.  Oh, look what I found when I got up from my chair where my bottom has been for the last 30 minutes.  It's my magic mirror, but it is covered with the evidence of where it has been which makes it hard to see into it and see who has come to visit.  If it is you, you sure are attracted to the oddest and grossest things. 

I will clean it up a bit before sharing with you who it was that gravitated to my filthy mirror.  Bye and good riddance till we meet again, go forth and prosper for today is the last day there will be before tomorrow comes,  but don't quote me on that.  If you tell anyone else what I said, send me $1 in royalty fees in a manila envelope. 

David Friesen, the most confused person writing this ever. 

Words from my Rhyming Project: Ass, Mass, tass, Lass, NasCar, Nas-T, Sass, Crass, blass-ting, alas, Brass, Cass, gas, sass.