Note: As the lockdown continues for some of us, whilst others are allowed to run free and get tattoos and manicures because their state governors don’t understand basic health science, it’s possible that some of us might be experiencing delusions due to the discombobulations. I pulled this one out of the archives as an example of such…
Deep in thought, Buster contemplated the complexity of his existence. Why does the sofa behind me seem oddly placed? What are those tassels all about? Does something extraordinary happen when you pull them? Where are all the other guests? Did I miss an important signal from the host? Did someone drag out the absinthe again? Did I drink some? Who would ever want to have a rug like this? Why am I sprawled on it in such an absurd manner? And most importantly, is it possible that I’m wearing a corset and just don’t recall putting it on?
The Couch: “Well, I’m not sure what you want me to say, Bustier. Normally I would be much more sympathetic, but I just spent an entire evening supporting at least fifty different people babbling about their inane issues whilst they dribbled libations on my crushed velvet. I no longer care and I have shrimp dip in my various cracks. But this much I do know. If you pull either one of my tassels, I will not hesitate to kick your ass with my short but sturdy legs. Really, though, I think you should be more concerned that the tiger appears to be dealing with a rather vengeful hairball. He could buck you at any second.”
The Tiger: “Do any of you realize how embarrassing this entire situation is for me, being used in a manner that is not right or just?”
The Corset: “Yes. I’m dealing with hairballs of my own. Buster has clearly never heard of man-scaping. It’s like a Yeti exploded in here.”
The Tiger’s Tail: “Follow me if you want to escape this absurdity. I know of a secluded room where we can hunker down and pray for daylight.”
The Party Host, off-camera due to an unfortunate cold-sore situation: “No one is going anywhere. My wife just informed me that her favorite corset is missing.”
The Corset: “Damn, I almost made it to freedom.”
The Tiger: “Don’t look at me. I’m clearly not mobile.”
The Couch: “I can’t help but look at you. And now I want pancakes for breakfast, if the prayer circle works and we make it to morning.”
The Pancakes: “Hey, don’t be a bully. We never did anything to you.”
The Doctor: “Mr. Keaton, can you hear me?”
Buster: “Is that the tiger talking? Do you need me to do the Heimlich Maneuver? Those hairballs can take some effort.”
The Doctor: “No, Buster, it’s your physician. The surgery went well and we were able to remove your gallbladder successfully. But you’re going to feel some tightness in your midsection.”
Buster: “Whew! I just had the strangest dream where the furniture was talking and I was cross-dressing.”
The Doctor: “That’s perfectly normal. The anesthesia can mess with your head and you might see things that aren’t real.”
The Stethoscope: “Oh, it’s real alright.”
The Faded Poster Displaying Internal Organs That Is Always in Examination Rooms, the One You Stare at for Hours Whilst Waiting for the Doctor to Remember You Exist: “Wanna pull my tassel and see what happens next?”
Alice, wandering in from Wonderland: “It’s okay, Buster. I got your back. Just take some deep breaths and don’t drink the tea.”
The Tea: “Don’t you want me, baby?”
The Tongue Depressor: “Weren’t you working as a waitress in a cocktail bar, when I met you?”
Alice: “Don’t ask me.”
Gwen Stefani: “Don’t speak, I know what you’re thinkin.”
Buster’s Tongue: “I’m thinking there was either too much morphine or not enough.”
The Morphine: “Good. My work here is done.”
Brian: “I don’t even know what I’m typing anymore.”
Alice: “Here, have another brownie.”
The Brownie: “I think Brian is past his expiration for the night. It’ll just be a waste of my special herbs and spices. Shouldn’t he just go to bed?”
The entire ensemble cast (including the orchestral conductor): “Yes!”
Except for Buster. Buster didn’t say anything at this point. Because he suddenly remembered that this was supposed to be a silent move. Whoops.
The Silent Movie: “Fin.”
Previously published as “Past Imperfect – #284”. Modified and extended for this post. And just in case it comes up in a court trial, because it very well could, based on certain notifications I have received in my email, I was NOT the person who brought the shrimp dip that night. Swear.
Categories: Humor
Bonnywood Manor 
Buster Keaton? I thought it was Roy getting one final trick over a toothsome tiger .
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Well, if you squint just right…
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Love the Human League lyrics, No Doubt about it🎶
I’ve woken up from surgeries in various ways, wearing various devices, but the inanimate objects have never so much as whispered. I feel cheated.
Even that one time (no, I never went to Band Camp, I was a Thespian) I took LSD, nothing talked. And I live in SoCal! 😎Aren’t all the good drugs supposed to be here?! 🌈🦄
Goodness… time for a Chill Pill…getting a little worked up there, wasn’t I? Mea culpa 😘
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Inanimate objects talk to me all the time. Of course, that’s because I make them do so. Once they start talking of their own free will, then I’ll admit that I have a problem. Until then, this wayward son will carry on…
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So that’s what happened to my winter coat.
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Perhaps if you hadn’t looked so fetching in said coat, it wouldn’t have inspired jealousy and subversive knicking on someone’s part…
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That’s it! I’ll buy synthetic fabric next time.
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That’s how Trump relieves his gas.
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And then his latest press secretary rushes in and lies about the mess he created…
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Super, start to finish…
It’s like a sleight of hand with words!
You are good!
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Thank you muchly. I’m rather enamored of that description… 😉
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Ah, Buster! My favorite comedian and for a long time, one of my secret lust figures! Thanks for a dose of Buster!
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I’d do anything to give you some small degree of satisfaction… 😉
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Can you please snip off and send me those tassels? I collect them on my travels.
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Will do. If I can make it past the tiger…
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In various cracks is definitely not where one wants their shrimp dip.
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It’s not a good look. I should know…
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I’m going to tie in a running convo you and I are having about P!nk in another version of Corona Time Passing and the web.. uhm.
You asked about the odd little man in my local grocer’s parking lot. I was making a far too subtle reference to how LSD used to be passed around – the strange little smiley face tab he slipped me. Because I felt caught in a surreal time slip. Since it happened again here, I’m thinking that tab o’ acid-y goodness was uber potent. Because it has to fight off the evils of C-19 and all…. and if one honestly thinks one could score LSD up here (despite the plethora of meth labs that trailer trashy sorts are always setting up and then blowing up their domicile and if one is lucky, themselves too) one would have been sampling something like LSD in their own area. I don’t do drugs anyway. If it needed to be said. Although people may mistakenly think I do. Because of comments like this one here. Apologies to Buster Keaton, the tiger skin rug, the tassels and the couch and the floor and you. I sorta rode right over it didn’t I? But Buster freaked me out.
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No need for apologies. The furniture and accessories and I are all doing fine. Some of us better than the others, but fine, nonetheless.
I thought you might be referencing recreational drug transport, but I wasn’t certain, so I was just as subtle in my response. Some folks are convinced that I do drugs as well. And I do. But they are all prescribed. By an actual doctor. (For the most part, anyway.) I can’t confirm it, but I think a lot of folks in the Drump administration must be taking massive amounts of drugs, without prescriptions, because their words and actions defy all sense of logic and compassion.
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Dang it. I meant to end that really long comment with “…because Buster really resembles Paul Rubenfeld. That weird guy gave me nightmares and I was fully growed when he showed up on the ‘entertainment’ scene. Something about the make up and the not quite ‘all there’ grin…
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Pee Wee scared me. I did admire his gumption and full embrace of his creative spirit, but he was/is very unsettling.
Trivia: Phil Hartman and Laurence Fishburne played recurring characters of Pee Wee’s Playhouse. Nope, not making that up…
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And I thought that this was the first example of Don’t Ask – Don’t Tell. but that loquacious lounge furniture knows all, sees all, and tells all. 😉 🙂
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It’s very possible that this may have been a failed forerunner to Clinton’s eventual failed policy. We may never know…
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He might have been a place-holder for Mae West, or just fell off the sofa at a Nick and Nora Charles party. 😆
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Uh whu-WHAT? :blink blink: I can see Phil Hartman (may he rest in peace. Sad he died so young) but Fishburne? Fishburne seems far too sober sides to have participated. I never saw that show. As said, I was fully grown when Pee Wee pranced onto the scene. Interesting trivia nugget to tuck away too! Thanks Brian! 😀
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God he was gorgeous when he was young, corset or no corset. Which is why both you and Gwen showed up. Don’t lie. You know it’s true.
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You speak of profound truth. I speak of… well, nobody has ever figured that out, least of all my therapist…
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Great imagination…! Convo of these inanimate objects is awesome
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Thank you, Shreya!
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Really loving these corona conversations !
So well written !!! KUDOS
Do read my blog. Your reviews are valuable
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I’m glad you’re enjoying them. And I will certainly take a peek at “Flipping Memories”…
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