Friday, July 29, 2016

Blackie






My neighbor, Old Flaccid, decided to be a noisy motherfucker that morning. 

He kept shouting the same word twice per repetition, "Blackie! Blackie!," in this pattern that gave him breathing intervals. He was old, you see, and he looked like he was decaying because of his skin. It has the character of a withered scrotum. Old Flaccid needed to breathe, I guess, on account of this unproductive yelling, "Blackie! Blackie!," could be too much for his age. There is still some posture in him, however, and there is still some grit and spit and all purpose anger with each "Blackie!" that issued from that old mouth. He can't be that old. 

I will not know, for sure, just how old Old Flaccid is since I've tried my best to ignore him for the better part of a decade. I would hazard a guess and announce that he's a few years younger than the Ark of the Covenant, but I could be wrong. What I'm sure of, however, is that the calm of this wonderful 7am morning died to Old Flaccid's noisy reports. He was as loud as the loudest "I don't give a fuck" in the manner of bitter old people, and I wish he was senile so he'd shut the fuck up. 

"Blackie! Blaaackie!" 

Now what you need to understand, My Dearly Beloved Sweet Nuts, is that Blackie is this long haired cat that perched himself on top of this concrete wall that surrounded Old Flaccid's property. He's a feet away from these suspended electric cables that were interesting in what they can do to breathing things. And what you need to remember is that Blackie is brown. He's as brown as the golden feces of a one year old. He's as brown as undigested almonds. He's as brown  as the moisture on your underwear when you were praying to Jesus for dry fart a few seconds ago. I'm telling you, I have seen that cat several times before, and by cat I mean Blackie, and I've always known him to be brown. I'm looking at him in this morning sunlight, and yes, he is brown. 

"Blackie! Blaaackie!" 

Blackie was ignoring Old Flaccid's authority because he had people to count. I guess that's what he's doing with the way his brown head followed everybody that passed his concrete wall. How long has he been at it? 

"Blackie! Blaaackie!"

Blackie's eyes pierced Old Flaccid's general direction. And they had the feline equivalent of "I wish you were senile so you'd shut the fuck up." I have seen that cat several times before, and I only liked him today. 

"Blackie! Blaaackie!"

11 comments:

  1. Anonymous11:27 PM

    Nastress naman ako sa Blackie! Haha :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. He's a sassy long hair, that Blackie, and we have a common enemy, that Blackie, which is why I am fond of him now.

      Delete
  2. Ahahahahahahahaha. And this is why I looooooove cats.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. You know what they say about cat lovers, right? I don't. We're crazy?

      Delete
    2. Yes. Unstable, and unfeeling ice queens. And other such... nonsense. Hahahahaha.

      Delete
  3. Check again because "Blackie" is never a cat and a "Blackie" should never be for a cat, not even for an Old Flaccid neighbor. Blackie is always a and for a dog. Or the world has long shifted or confused its preferences? Charot.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. What in this crazy planet are you talking about, Pepe? Come out of that closet of no imagination already.

      And I am thanking you for dropping by. Muahness from Pasig Cirrehhh.

      Delete
  4. mary@mail.postmanllc.net

    ReplyDelete
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