Skunkville Saga Rumination

Unusual adventures & awkward situations & miscommunications seem to plague and/or delight an elderly couple who seem to know how to roll with the punches

The later lives of iconic residents in a nondescript American town. This blog novel currently has 2 MILLION words served up as 2,000 nail-biting quick-reading hard-laffing episodes, its 2,000,000 words more than ANY OTHER easily-obtainable novel. KIRKUS REVIEWS (see review on Kirkus site) compares SKUNKVILLE to the works of literary geniuses James Joyce, Thomas Pynchon, and John Barth. SKV Has attracted ~110,000 reader visits to date just on Delphi, plus an equally large number of additional readers on a diversity of other sites now no longer relied on by Skunkville.
3/18/14

IS THERE REALLY HOPE FOR HOMEOWNERS?

Narrator: 'Why did she say I was 'moderator'? Doesn't she know the difference between a 'narrator and a 'moderator'? She may desperately crave a Hump from moi, but I'm not so sure anymore that I'm going to provide it!... just like that, lit and all!''
Towne House Managing Owner, closely tied of course to Organized Crime: 'Are you sure you two hot young dishes can really provide satisfaction to our owners in this job?'
Linda: 'How do you define 'sato-facshun, sirly?'
As shown in this accurate photo of the universe, all of known reality is in a state of chaotic vibration. Getting into the 'beat' of the Cosmic Insanity is what we call Sanity. Although some wise men call it Necessary Insanity, a way of tuning away from, on a tenuous moment to moment basis, these chaotic universal vibrations.
Fixit Man has arrived: 'Okay, everyone calm down. This is just a minor, momentary problem we're having with the stability of the entire complex... Listen: It has nothing to do with that hot fat blonde doing cheers on your couch and knocking one of its legs off...'
'Yeah! I knew it was caused by the gout water guy carelessly splashing his excess gout water around... I mean, why would he come to a party with something like that??'
Fixit man: 'Wrong!! Throw that gout water theory out the friggin' winder, please, folks. You guys are cruel, you know, casting blame on one another without knowing shxt about Shxnxla!'
'Hey... But how come everybody's afraid to talk about the Duck Dynasty guy who showed up just when things went really downhill...'
Narrator: 'As I keep tellin' you guys... If you -- girls first of course -- just let me give you a Hump...i.e., enjoy a Hump with me... Everything would clear right up...Like the desert sky!!'
'Jest one mor hump befores I go over the big hump in the sky....I winder if these humps had anything to do with mine early departure??'
Jill, who has found lately that she is apt to be white one day and black the next, thinking: 'You know, at least on my white days, I sure can get to thinking about that moderator who keeps offering me a Hump!'

It's a whole different world now for our dear old friends (who are still young and nubile, of course) Jill and Linda now that their shabby towne house complex, La Grande Maison de Louis XIV, has become a bewildering shadow zone between dimensions, ever since lusciously endowed but nonetheless rather big Linda, Jill's roomate ever since they were kicked out of high school at age 15, and their parents refused to accept them back 'in the fold' given their ejection..anyhow, as I was trying to say, their apartment has become a bewildering shadow zone between dimensions ever since Linda was doing wild cheerleader cheers, including leaping high into the air and kicking her feet back on their collapsable double bed luxury couch and her violent, daredevilish cheerleading caused the back rear leg of the couch to become painfully sore and eventually suffer from entropy and fall clean off, destabilizing the couch and making sitting on it more like riding a distressed, crippled ship riding crazily on roiling, boiling, coiling, toiling, swoiling, rolling, stormy seas, with a huge overload of diverse foreign-speaking, but none the same language as any other, couch passengers, many drop-in's whom no one still in their apartment claim to have ever even met....  Listen, if you've ever been to a multi-day booze and drug party held in a stuffy, confined area that has attracted some highly diverse and at least semi-deranged people... You know how out of touch even the sanest of party visitors can get.  The answer always, of course, is to try to rise if possible above the hopelessly confused group grope twistarama and, if you can keep your sea legs about you, or are able to crawl accurately in a prescribed direction across the floor and safely elude all its mazes and objects, alive and dead, including devil spawn such as the grasping, strong, screaming, writhing, barfing people who were too fxcked up to hold a position on the Party Couch, the only real In-Crowd hangout at such an event... If it can even be called an event, since no one who was there is able to remember anything that even partly matches anyone else's story afterwards, and usually finds that they weren't even there at any time!  Some of this may seem cornfusing, but that is what happens when you get down to the nitty gritty of reality....ask any scientist worth his Morton's...

Then you throw in Linda's cheering and the loss of stability and integrity of the couch, turning it into like a lifeboat filled with panicky passengers, totally freaked, who believe they must be elsewhere, and twenty foot 'reality waves'... or, just as bad, the counter-rhythmic rocking of a destabilized giant hippy live-in couch whose entire physical and psychosocial stability has been thrown to the four winds when Linda's cheers cause the left back side of the couch to collapse, creating a multi-angle, multi-phased psychodelic multi-wobble....which eventually can encompass as many as several hundred strong and variant wobbles, also exacerbated, or jerked out of whack by the cross-energy and interaction between the multi-phasic couch wobble and the multi-person, non-phasic, independent, constantly changing/flowing/evolving people wobbling....

Yes, you're absolutely right, sir.  It's better just to completely stop thinking about it, to go with the Flow...in the blind, long-shot mathematically invalid, impossible thought that 'somehow it will sort itself out', 'somewhow a local/temporary equilibrium will be reached of we stop fighting and try as hard as we can to just 'go with the flow', i.e., strengthen the base-line or average symptoms of the chaos and stopping adding in new chaotic themes one after the other based on our own random, unsynchronized reactions to the lack of harmony, unity, sanity.... Each must go into their own Gentle Quiet Zone and Turn All Outcomes Over to the Universal Balance Beam.

What a start for two 18 year old girls (Jill and Linda) in what was then a more seedy, rundown Skunkville back in the ancient late 20th century, with plenty of 'mean streets' and danger for vulnerable, protectorless girls!  They originally managed to get a unit in the new Towne House complex by lying about their ages and offering to be the cleaning women for all the 28 units in the La Grande Maison de Louis XIV development in return for free rent.

Of course, I don't know why I'm saying this, since, good-natured and well-intentioned they may be, their accidental marriage to the same man, who claimed he was an identical twin...and was suspiciously unable to make the other twin's wedding....or ever be in the same run with other groom at any time... Should have been a sure sign that this building complex was doomed.

 

 
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