NOTHING

What the hell have I been doing?

Sitting In The Nothing Factory
with the sweet memories of Winky.

Instead of coming up with crafty ideas and full stories I have spent the last month with little flashes of ideas I have thought were funny in my life just replaying them over and over again in my head. With no real meat to the matter to apply to anything of any substance at all. I believe I am losing my touch. On second hand maybe I'm really on to something here. By something I mean an enormous nothing. The kind of nothing that consumes your whole existence. You know like that movie from when I was younger called "The Never Ending Story", ya' that one. You see,though, I'm not one of the characters from the movie who is trying to do anything about it no I'm more of one of the small characters giving in to the nothing like the rock biter or the bat lovin' freak. Nothing interesting like Morla the ancient wise turtle, or Atreo the handsome 13 something year old charging on in his brave warrior way, I couldn't even claim to be the kid reading the story in his gradeschool attic taking a whole night to eat one PB&J, such control. I have given in to my nothing.
I used to draw a sinister character named Dr. Pincusion and his Nothing Factory. He tormented people with nothing. He scared the living snot out of children and adults with... NOTHING. Then one day Kapow and her Killer Daisies showed Dr. Pincusion and his Nothing Factory something. Something. That's all it it took because once you have let the nothing consume you, something is bound to kill you. These little flashes in my head, little flashes of nothing, have taken over my whole creative being. I can't seem to do anything but think about them again and again and again and again. I wish I had the abaility to say., "the reason I'm acting so odd right now is because I am upset about the this or the that", or "I'm really upset because Lou didn't make my turkey sandwich right" what do you exspect from a cat. However, I have no excuse... nothing. Instead I have this little nothing popparazzi and it's flashbulbs putting me in the classic deer in head lights position. Get dressed and face the day, or stand in your living room naked staring blankly at the front door diping your fingers in mayonaise waiting for the UPS man to deliver your future wraped in paper doilies. Nothing.

I keep thinking about this old dishwasher from a job of mine in the past. He was from El Salvador his name was Jose. Which I used to like to call out like Jerry Lewis whining "ladies"... "Jose". Which he would then come into the porno/travel plastered post carded walls of the dining area with Roy Rogers hangin' over the bathroom eating a delectable burger and all of its fake wood paneling glory. He would moan "ohh Winky" then start thrusting his empty bus tub on the counter getting out all his beautiful youth knocking the customers plates of food off the counter onto the floor under their foot rest on their stools. Jose didn't speak very well english, kinda' like I type, so I used to teach him really good phrases like, "hey lady your breakfast burrito looks mighty fine but do you mind if I polish my dick on your fingernail while you eat?", and I'm sure all the things he taught me in his own language were just the same. That was the beauty of it all. Anyway, one night I closed the restaurant with the cook, and good friend of mine T Dog, and we decided to check our garbage situation. Sitting on top of the pile was this filthy plaster cock-n-balls. We immediately re-unlocked the restaurant and sat at the counter thinking of the hyjinks this cock-n-balls could ensue. It then turned into this beautiful story involving Jose and his tooth. You see Jose had this perfect mouth of teeth except for his right front tooth stuck straight out of his mouth, to the point that he could never stop smiling because he couldn't close his mouth around his tooth(don't worry I hear he has since fixed it through our beautiful american dental system). So the story went like this....

Cigar, the uncle of our 300lb. black cook from Cabrini Green Phyllis who slept with all our delivery drivers in dry storage, who got his name from homelessly walking around all day with 20 cigars sticking out of his hat.. would come to the restaurant at dawn. He would do his usual ask Winky to put on her theme song then dance with the mop for everyone's pleasure, but here's the twist. On this particular day Jose would come from the back and place his plaster cock-n-balls on the counter stool closest to the kitchen, then he would very choreogragpically(my own word) take his time sitting on the cock (inserted into his bum of course)spinning around on the stool while his tooth grew out the front of his face. When he stood the tooth would go back. So he would proceed down the whole line of stools, doing the same, out the front door while Cigar or Uncle, to those of us who knew and loved him, danced with the mop to "Winky's Theme". Cigar, mind you is all of 6 feet 6 inches of pure muscle. Like the dopey guy from "Of Mice Of Men", not knowing his own strength breaking things, people, trucks, buildings and such left and right. He is also unhealthily obsessed with an 18 year old polish girl from Zakapownni, a heathen polish joint down the street. This nothing dances through my head. It didn't happen it's nothing.

There are many more nothings I will touch upon I'm sure but now I want dumplings from Chinatown.