by Joe Buonfiglio

Well, my little Potpourri of the Damned blog is finally back from its short hiatus, and I feel the need to address the elephant in the room.

No, there is an elephant literally in the room with me at this very moment. This, of course, is somewhat shocking in that for most of the time it was disguised as an 800-pound gorilla. I’m not sure why, but this massive grey assailant upon my weak tethering to even a semblance of reality did mumble something about “Sure I’m a pachyderm, but I self-identify as an ape.” In today’s world, that’s a political hot potato I simply refuse to touch … even drenched in butter with a generous dollop of chive sour cream.

Now, why it’s here in the first place is a bit of a mystery. Perhaps these were not shiitake mushrooms I pilfered from my sister-in-law’s fridge she claimed to be adding to a soufflé that night. When will I learn? It’s not as if I hadn’t raided her pantry last month for some of her homemade brownies and wound up running naked through the fairgrounds’ Sunday flea market dazzled by all the “pretty colors” yelling, “The British are coming! The British are coming!” On a side note, however, who knew used Lionel miniature-train locomotives had such lovely auras? Granted, not as impressive as that of the haunted Madame Alexander dolls, but vibrantly spectacular nonetheless.

And speaking of auras…

Years and years ago, I worked in a call center for the Southern Bell Yellow Pages in Florida. (Yes, I’m old.) As I recall, there was this unusual gentleman who also worked there as a fellow member of the Make Ends Meet Club; a Mae West impersonator named Frank. (Yes, I have a colorful past.) A delightful human being who claimed to have psychic abilities, Frank said he could see and “read” people’s auras. As I made my inaugural ingress onto the call-center floor, he immediately told me that I had multiple auras competing with one another as if some sort of angry rainbow, but each struggling against a pitch-black aura of immense power desperate to consume all the others. He said he’d never seen anything like it, literally began to tremble with fear, and then ran out of the room declaring he would not return while I worked there.

So yeah.

There’s that.

Did I mention I have a colorful past?

So anyway, while I’ve been away from my blogging duties in a futile attempt to seek out a brief respite from the— aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand the elephant in the room just tried lighting a fart and set my draperies on fire. I don’t know which is worse: the fact that I am currently bearing witness to the rapid consumption of my domicile in a hellish inferno brought into reality by a surreal creature of my shroom-impaired mind, or that my nostrils are under assault by the overwhelmingly ever-present flatulent aroma of overly roasted peanuts still hanging in the air.

I’ve got to call 911 now. However, rest assured, I shall return next week with more absurdist curiosities for your cerebral ingestion. Until then, why not get a jump on tax season; trick-or-treat this Halloween costumed as an IRS auditor. You’ll be glad you did.

Jesus, Jumbo, how many damn nuts did you eat!


© 2017 Joseph P. Buonfiglio     All Rights Reserved.