Edgar: An Intimate Poe'trait

Dearest Silver Bat,

This is a true story.

I was in a restaurant down in Park City on Saturday with some pals. We were eating (What?! I KNOW!) and conversing (NOT POSSIBLE! I THOUGHT SO TOO!!!!!!) over a hot meal when suddenly, all of a sudden, all sudden like, in struts that celeb of all celebs. Luckily for you, I snapped a Poe-to (that's a photo of Poe, ingrate)!

As you know, his new film, "Cats and Dogs: A Love Story," is showing down at Sundance this year and--wait, you thought he was dead? Ha! Silly, silly bat.  No, E.A. Poe lives eternally off the tears of kittens and the lethargy of frat boys (literally, one hour spent playing Call of Duty 5: Wombat Rising equals thirty minutes of extra life for Mr. Poe).

Moving on, I went over to say hello and we had ourselves a civilized conversation. It went as follows:

POE: Ah, yes. Refill my water, Waiter-Bot.

ME: Right away, sir!

Eventually, after I brought him his food and suggested the Molten Mudslide for dessert (it's a volcano in your mouth!), I explained to him that I was not in fact a server at that establishment but an avid fan of his work. With a grin that would warm the hearts of a thousand white supremacists, he raised his glass to me and said, "The check, please."

I returned to his table, check in hand, to find that he had disappeared (like a Will-o-the-Wisp!) into the thinnest of air (we were pretty high up on the mountain). But he had left behind a napkin, upon which he had written this Poe-m:

The food was awful,
The service, worse.
You should probably fire that shifty-eyed kid.
Seriously.


Bat, we hit it off, Eddie and I. I'm not afraid to say that he's probably my new best friend.

Sincerely,

CL

The Truth of My Whereabouts

Oh most crimson of all Lizards!

GLORY!  I have arrived at last. And oh what a journey it has been, a very big and very epic journey.  It was so crazy I have blacked most of it out of my memory to preserve any future happiness from being diminished by its greatness.  YOU HAVE NO IDEA!  But for the sake of enlightenment I will attempt to piece together the foggy memories of these past few months.

It all starts with a face, or skin rather.  As you well know my skin is fairly reflective, so reflective in fact that I have been used as a light card in some student films. Because of this uber-shine property I decided to grow out hair on my face to reduce my shine to a level that could be comprehended by the human eye. I found much success.

For the Beard Loves YOU!!!!!

For years all was well until the fateful day I discovered my brain was applying for a transfer to BYU, a school filled with hairless candy-coated creatures they call "cougars" (this is confusing, because based on TV culture I thought cougars were something different all together,  my desire to see Cougar Town has diminished from slightly-curious to cut-out-my-eyes). Despite the best effort of my darkness, the brain somehow won out and I set out on what was sure to be a semi-bland adventure in human experimentation. After months of mental preparation and crying, I decided it was time to destroy the mane that God had granted.  I would shortly learn that this would be a drastic mistake.



You see it had been so long since my face had been infected with the shiny (if you remember correctly, whilst I was a humble missionary I caught a rare face-light related illness that made me absorb light for about a year) that I completely forgot about the potential repercussions.  And sure enough, just as I realized the threat I had become, a giant space craft fell out of the sky, the blinded pilot screaming as he burned in the wreckage.  

I am the best at drawing space things

Things get a little bit very blurry for a few days.  I remember a black toaster, and a hand covered in strawberry jello, also I think I remember seeing a rabbit that could only walk in reverse, but could roll in what ever direction it wanted.  I named it Chadrick.  Try as I might, I can't piece together exactly what happened during that time, but my memory starts to come back together after I had become a captive of the Merztri empire in their galactic battle with the far inferior planets run by the Phfph collective. 


Oh Lizard, I am ashamed to say that I was forced to take part in many a horrible activity in this bloody war.  In the case of the poor planet 5@, a high intensity laser was amplified and reflected off my face.  The power of the laser was so great that the whole planet lasted only 16 minutes.  This seems like a short period of time in the long run, but feels like ages when it's spent with a laser on your face.  This was one event of many my friend.  I was used like a flash grenade a few times, occasionally used to help soldiers see around corners, and after the war slowed down I spent a substantial amount of time employed as a mirror in a Merztri beauty salon.



Thinks go dark again.  I think I lived in a crate for a while, then I think there was some sort of incident involving a poorly time investment takeover of the bridge that was over me to make room for apartment complexes.  Whatever the reason, I found myself placed back on earth somewhere in the Asian ish regions. There I met Bayarmaa, a Mongol witch doctor of sorts that taught me to control  my facial shine through mediation and drug abuse.  I believe the home made narcotics are mostly to blame for the continual memory lapses.  



Some what around the month of 9 I was able to sell Bayarmaa to a visiting Sheik in exchange for safe passage back to the states.  She was very upset with me, which I can understand, but at the same time... I can’t.

I should design clothing. For realz yo.

So I ended up back in Provo land, which is about as close to earth as a man in my situation could hope for.  There is still more to this story, but it will have to wait.  Fringe is calling me.  And I am a slave to its beautiful beautyness. ness.


So till next time, Remember kids

yes.

SB

In an Endless Sea of Gumdrops: The Year 2012

Bat of Gleaming Silver,

Poem time!

Yearly, little bears are born,
And in the summer, sheep are shorn,
And when the moon is full of corn,
The sheep and bears shall toot the horn.

I call that poem: Stupid.

Let me tell you about the New Year:

In 2012, there will be four babies born that are exactly identical. They will be born to an angry Haitian woman named Gabby who will shout and yowl the whole time she's giving birth. Something about...epidural?...blah blah blah.

In 2012, there will be an airplane that flies so high, it will discover a layer of clouds upon which very light people live. They will be very friendly and open to our visit and we will slaughter them MERCILESSLY to harvest their cotton candy. But...they have none. We will immediately forget that it ever happened. BECAUSE "JERSEY SHORE: SNOOKI GETS BREAST IMPLANTS AKA TRASHBAGS" WILL BE ON!!

In 2012, there will be a new president voted in. He will rule with an iron foot because we are unworthy to be touched by his marble fist. His name will be Gregory Yum-Yum, and his reign will be one of absolute fear. He will rule for a record fourteen years because he will KILL ALL RIVALS. It will be a dark day for us as the constitution goes the way of the dodo and all steak is banned...Also, he will be president of the local yacht club, not the United States. Guess I should have clarified.

In 2012, there will be a weapon built. And it will be most sweet. And sweet is used in the vernacular (Ex. Cool! Awesome! Boss! Sick! Ill! Under The Weather!) and also it is used to mean sweet as in sugarific (this word is a mixture of sugar and terrific...and fickle). Because the weapon, of course, will turn all water into gumdrops creating, as in the title--THE VERY TITLE--of this post, an Endless Sea of Gumdrops. We will all swim in it and it will be more delicious than the sweet, sweet death that overtakes us after we slip into a diabetic coma. WHICH WE WILL.

In 2012, all the world will watch as a cute lil' puppy chases its tail for a record forty-seven minutes. We will not realize that the video is on a thirty-second loop. WE HAVE ALL BEEN TRICKED!

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Wow! The year...[2012]...sure sounds wacky! You should buy a car! Because spending is the BEST. THE BEST! THE BEST! It's the best.

BACK TO THE PROGRAM

In 2012, I will own a chain of restaurants that serve one item and one item only: Napkins...made of human skin. I will call it, NAPSKINS. People will enter, expecting food. The novelty of NAPSKINS will draw them in. They'll feel weird if they don't eat them (it's a restaurant). They will eat. They will turn into slobbering cannibals. I will turn a profit in the first quarter, but after that the business will pretty much be sunk.

In 2012, you will wear a hat that you will name Reginald. This is because you have no friends. The hat will one day leave you for a larger head. But it will leave a parting gift...a band of acne circling your head. And each time you pop a zit on that band, you will cry as you remember Reginald, and you will cry because each zit is filled with LAVA.

In 2012, everyone will try walking on their hands for a day, but it won't be for them. One man, Hampton Fitzwilliam, will continue doing it because he thinks it will attract ladies. Good call, Hampton. Because your kneecaps are much more appealing than your awful face.

In 2012, the world will not end. But your's will.

A poem:

Upset tummy?
I'm so sorry.
I hope you will,
Be well tomorry!
........................
Watch your back.


THE END

Sincerely,

CL