May 16, 2003
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The world of ‘firsts’ has always facinated me. However, I must admit, with the ‘conversational puppy’ aspect to my personality I tend to gravitate toward the more mundane and ‘left under the couch’ kind of firsts. Like…
The first person to eat Rocky Mountain Oysters…I keep asking myself if they were stranded on a mountain peak and were just feeling a bit peckish not wanting to eat the WHOLE goat and being tired of the same old Slim Jims and Mineral Water they brought with them…or if they HAD eaten most of the goat already and just figgered…”fuggit”
The first guy with a Prince Albert…looking down and thinking to himself “Sure, it’s handsome…but what it needs is something extra…like, oh I dunno. Metal.
The first person to auto-erotisize…shut in the house on a long rainy weekend, scarfing Doritos too fast and watching Cinimax when he begins to choke in a couple of different ways…
The first person to realize a need for a parachute….I need to get out of this airplane BEFORE it lands because those baked beans and pork rinds are beginning to mount an assault…
The first person to use a hair dryer in the tub…giving new meaning to the idea of being in “far too big of a friggin’ hurry” if you ask me.
…well, I think *I* myself have become a first. It happened by accident I’m sure…or at least I’m *almost* sure because it’s rather strange to actually FIND a piece of fried chicken in your clothes when you’re changing them into the dryer. Generally speaking. You keep pulling pieces from your underwear, the cuffs of your jeans, shirt pockets, stuck to towels and hiding in socks all the time thinking to yourself…’What the…?????” My mind reverts to scenarios where a burgler breaks in, raids the fridge, and then, finding nothing while rifling my pockets, leaves while tossing the half-eaten chicken down in disgust.* Or a gorilla breaking out of the zoo and on a feeding rampage breaks into the house after tossing through the trash cans outside and leaves to bigger and better things after trying on some Dockers and finding them a bit binding in the knees. Or a wrecking ball coming through the wall…wait a second. That was Sesame Street and the spilled milk on the kitchen table skit wasn’t it? Well anyhow, I’m still a bit baffled, but everything turned out well…and after all, it was a very *clean* chicken breast.
So…No urban legend crap, no ‘he said, she said’, no Current Affair archive tape with blurry video and shocked gasps in the background or shakey 9mm B&W Roswell Autopsy-esque-pan-and-cut silent film….now you can say you actually KNOW someone who thinks he was the first person to use a chicken breast as fabric softener and who’s clothes lived to tell about it.
It’s history. And YOU…Are There.
*ok..ok..I don’t know for SURE it was ‘half-eaten’ or not, being as how it was washed and everything…but for sake of the narrative thread…
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