It's All Business

It seems like there are just too many things to do on this planet. Each and everyday could be filled with the most amazing utmost ridiculous adventure, but we all know that would be far too exhausting to execute everyday. Sometimes we just enjoy sitting down and letting the somewhat lovely curse of laziness take over. It happens; some might say it’s inevitable. I would like to discuss a few things with you today, but the first one is about energy. At the time I was learning about it, my closed mind didn’t allow me to completely indulge in the idea that we are all living off one big mass of energy (could you call it mass?) that we all forced to share.

I know hearing that might give you the impression that I am some kind of up-in-the-air-whacked-out-smoked-too-much-weed-drank-too-much-coffee-hippy-free-spirit. Yes I’ll have to admit that some of that is true, but I have not adventured too far into the depths of hippy psychological idealisms that I’ve been lost. There are, however, some bizarre conservative mannerisms that linger around, cleaning up the roaches and crushed beer cans that litter the insides of my mind. Is this the grown up part of my mind? Is this the thing that makes my 21-year-old fragile mind trick itself into thinking that I’m some kind of person ready to lull my living carcass around in the professional world? Oh shit, I hope not.

The professional world is around every corner that we look, the newspaper stands, the television, this MacBook that I am typing on. It’s all business. All of the consumer products and even the food that we put on the table has a background of busy bees buzzing around with their necks embraced with a tight white collar squeezing their pudgy necks until their faces are permanently red. However, this is all some misconstrued construct that I have created in my head. I am also losing the point of what I was originally trying to say. Hold on a sex. Whoops. Hold on a sec. Right.

 Secondly, it’s been quoted millions of times and posted effortlessly on countless facebook profiles that clutter the walls, but just because we’re growing/grown up it doesn’t mean that we have to act like some kind of uptight suit monkey that regulates our human race into it’s own death. Death by economy, death and taxes, death by smartasses, oh the list will never end.  Where is our sense of imagination? Since everything has already been done and being original is pretty damn close to redefining and destroying the smart-ass quote, “nothing is impossible,” or the lovely “never say never.” Suck a dick puke breath.

I remember the times when I’d sit next to a globe spin it and drag my index finger along the surface and see where my imagery flight ticket was going to take me. Or when I’d sing into a chicken drumstick as if it was a microphone, in my boxers at the top of my lungs pretending that I’m some kind of rock star legend, that was classic from day one, with a tattoo of a bee on my knee because I was the BEES KNEES. Shit, don’t lose yourself out there boys and girls. It’s these moments that keep us alive. So here it is, I present to you a friendly reminder to those who give a shit, or don’t at all, stay frosty. It’s a big wild beautiful world out there, but a lot of assholes inhabit it too. Let’s share the love and the energy, and if you have to, flip a few birds to a few assholes.

Ludwig
By Johnny Hanuse
February 7, 2012

I was walking around the woods doing my regular rounds to get some wood to fuel fire in my fine cabin. I can polish my guns and smoke my drum tobacco and have CBC Radio 1 playing in the background in warmth. My newest gun rests snugly against my leg in my boot. A silenced 9mm Beretta just incase I get into too close of an encounter with a beast of the wild. I take break to sit on a stump to roll up a drum ciggy and that’s when I heard the scream. I quickly tightened my suspenders, grabbed my axe and whispered to my Beretta, “ maybe today is your lucky day baby girl.”

I head towards the location of where I suspect the scream came from. There it was a house settling into the woods getting covered in moss. I crouch down to avoid getting caught from the viewpoints of any windows. I creep up to the door and barely open it to take a peek to see how many enemies I have to take care of. I see no one. I close the door and reach down for my silenced Beretta, cock it, then enter the house.

I can hear grunting in one of the rooms in the back of the house. I take each step very carefully not to blow my cover with creaking floorboards. I was not as successful as I would have hoped, but it seemed as though I was still in the clear because the grunting continued. I walk through the kitchen of the house to the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. I stand at the end of the hall and listen to try and figure out what the target was. I saw a red cloak poking outside of the quarter-opened door at the end. I point my gun forward and proceed quietly down the hallway. While strafing down the hallway I see a basket with scones spilled on the floor. I was a step away from the door when my conscience stopped me dead in my tracks. I have been in the woods for a very long time. They said that I would go crazy if I spent too much time out here alone. I figured with CBC I wouldn’t get bushed and lose my mind. No, I am sure someone is in danger; I need to investigate this further. I place my left hand on the brass doorknob and my Beretta in my right. I slammed the door open the light from the window hits me dead in the eyes. The blurriness goes away and I can see clearly. It’s the Big Bad Wolf I knew it.

“Where’s little red riding hood and the elderly woman?”

“Oh c’mon Ludwig you know I didn’t do any such things. You know I’m not into that stuff anymore.”

“You better start telling a whole lot more truth or I’m gonna start blastin’”

Big Bad Wolf sits silently with no response. I squint my eyes and peer as deep into his as I possibly can. Some movement and muffled screaming come from the Big Bad Wolf’s stomach.

“I knew it.”

I squeezed the trigger and put a bullet right between his eyes. His head whiplashed back and the chair rocked back and forth with his feet stretched out dragging on the floor. Once again the movement and muffled cries for help. I bring down and slice him open as if I was using a scalpel. I reach in and pull the elderly woman and little red riding hood out of the stomach.

“Oh my goodness, thank heavens you came and saved is Ludwig, I thought I was going to be dead for sure.” Said the elderly lady.

Little Red Riding hood was leaning forward puking.

“Well you guys are a little filthy, but you’re alive. Alright let’s get you guys cleaned up and get some food in ya.”

They both begin walking down the hallway to the water closet. As they walk down I hold myself back and wait until they can’t see me. I bring my Beretta to my face. So close that I can smell the fresh gun powder and kiss it.

“You did a very good job today.”

And I walk into the kitchen.