report from the field

while i am on assignment in new york, field reports will be filed by chocolate, my colleague and traveling companion. chocolate also happens to be a six-inch stuffed moose belonging to my sister, and was recently displaced from his home on the dashboard of her truck by an unfortuante accident. yeah, i know all this sounds pretty strange, and it is, but chocolate is used to being in the field, and is quite adept at being a special correspondent, so let's just put aside our skepticism and let him do what he does best, shall we?

report from the field, filed 4/9/05 at 8:04 am est by chocolate

we have arrived in new york, and are now riding the long island rail road, which is an exponential improvement over the fung wa bu, which smelled exactly like crotch-rot. seriously, if someone actually had the desire and managed to figure out a way to bottle that foul odor, it would smell just like the fung wa bu. eau de crotch-rot. a female passenger sitting in the bus' mid-section put it rather perfectly when she announced: "SMELLS like SOMEBODY ain't be washing THEY ASS." indeed.

it was also torturously cold on the bus, which was a condition that my traveling companion neglected to remember from her previous trip on the apex bus line. she spent the majority of the ride shivering relentlessly under her denim jacket, while trying to find a postition that wouldn't make her ass fall asleep in less than five minutes. she never discovered said position, and is fairly certain after seven hours of research that it does not exist. i was neither particularly cold or physically uncomfortable, due to my moose-fur and diminutive size, but i don't sleep well on vehicles driven at high speed by people who seem less than trustworthy. i won't go in to my criteria for "less than trustworthy".

now it is off to strong isle for some actual sleep(the sort which won't be overrun with dreams of penguins or internment in a p.o.w. camp) as we are so exhausted that we have actually started to hallucinate. don't want to be hallucinating in the presence of m. warner.

stop looking at me swan!

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