Bench monster ate my phone!!! Wait…how did I take this picture?
I lied, that’s how. Bench monster didn’t eat my phone, bench monster isn’t even a monster in the classical sense. Bench just likes to let you sit on him, and yeah, that’s kind of creepy but not monsterly. Watch out for his right support stone, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.
So easy to joke about a picture dude, I could crack myself up about that vietnam execution photo or civil rights marching footage…but no, I couldn’t make YOU laugh, you have to choose to think it’s funny, I can’t make you do that. I guess I could tickle you, but that would be cheating, not that I haven’t cheated on girl friends for the sake of a laugh. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be a serious joker.
Here’s one: “first person to kick the ball between the palm trees and have it turn into a stone bench wins!” And we played for hours…we played for days…we played for YEARS…until one day it just happened, man. I don’t know how, or if it was even from one of the soccer balls we had kicked, or who had kicked the ball last, but there it was. We looked at it, then at each other, then back at it. Obviously we ran and screamed like little girls, like we were when the soccer game began those many moons ago. We really didn’t know what to say about it, we mostly just giggled hysterically. Joan took it as a sign that she should kill herself, but she was always talking about that and none of us were surprised when she finally did. Fran wanted to name the stone bench “Miller” and start a cult in its honor. Liz wanted to have a seat, but Fran strangled her on the spot for desecrating her wrathful god, Miller. We all sort of brushed that fact to the back of our minds, for these were trying times. I don’t know, we we’re all just happy to be alive…except Joan and Liz of course, but they couldn’t be helped now. I can’t really remember what it was I thought this all meant. Surely a soccer ball turning into a stone bench is a notable event that must mean something, right?! I guess I didn’t know if it had to mean anything, other than that it happened. Thank goodness for this nursing home. If not for them I’d be homeless or worse. Never had any family. Hadn’t the time, what with that soccer game going on constantly. I used to imagine that people who would pass by and cheer on the sidelines were my family, and that they were cheering for me…sometimes I do similar things here in this nursing home. People don’t mind much here, they sort of assume you’ll do absurd shit since we’re all senile and old. I’ve got to figure it would have been weird if I’d ran up to a group of people during the game and yelled, “thanks for the support, mom and dad!” They might not have stayed to watch, assuming this was a game for the realistically challenged, but what would I have cared? …what would I have cared?