Hey, Mickey. Whatcha doing?
“Becoming a human drum.”
Do you have a secret plan in place to have your remains turned into a drum when you die? Like: tan your skin and that’s the drum head?
“The plan’s not secret.”
Walked into that one. Is it legal?
“Not at all. Billy’s gonna steal me.”
And take you your body to a tanner, and then the hide to a drum-maker that will work with leather made from man?
“I got a guy.”
That’s not the word.
“A man can’t be a drum? Maybe I identify as a drum.”
Sure, fine. The thing is: didn’t you have a drum made out of a skull and the thing was bad mojo?
“Oh, yeah. We had to hire many holy men to clean the house, in a spiritual sense. But that guy didn’t want to be a drum; that means it’s bad to drum on him. I do, so it’s good energy.”
That makes a weird amount of sense.
You like the new layout?
“I don’t read your blog.”
What’s in the wicker basket?
Can I have some?