I met Epsticle Du (pronounced DOO) on a balmy fall morning.  He had a big nose.  It was massive.  Hypnotic.  He made eye contact with me, I made eye contact with his nose.  It was like having a pair of perky sorority breasts on his aging, yet peaceful face.  Is his big nose relevant?  I highly doubt it.  Other than the power that be, his giant nose, he appeared to be an ordinary gentleman.

Epsticle lived by himself.  He lived on a small plot of land in a small house in a small, quiet neighborhood.  He had honored his parents' wishes and had buried both of them under the old oak tree which stood outside of his bedroom window.  Each night his father would sit on the back porch and listen to the wind rustle the oak tree's leaves.  Each and every night Epsticle's father's musical leaves would be drowned out by the popping of popcorn.  Epsticle's mother loved the sound of the kernals ring-ting-tinging around in the pot which had just enough canola oil in it to make a mother hamster shout "My heavens!"  This usually led to a confronatation.  These nightly, and mighty, confrontations ultimately led to the demise of the aging Du couple.  As a side note, youger Du didn't witness the experience for he was too busy  masturbating.

Well, each and every night Epsticle would take a few moments to listen to nature's music, just like his father.  This natural music would put Epsticle into a Zen-like meditative state.  It allowed him to focus on the task at  hand.  And, each night, he would tackle the same task.  Night after night, month after month, year after year.  He would whisper to himself, in the peaceful "I'm a peacuful warrior" tone, "Bring it on."  He would always complete his meditation with a smile to balance everything out.  He feared being too aggressive.  He feared being too timid.  So, he would just smile and hope for the best.  After the smile disappeared he would do one hundred squat thrusts.  "I want to work my mind and body.  i just want to make sure that my body still is." is what  he once shared with me.

After this, he would tackle his task.  He'd take the hand-off, lower his not-so-intimidating shoulder and attempt to run over the linebacker... not very Zen-like, but "what the hey."  So, at dusk, off to work he would go.  He'd open the screen door and hang a left after the kitchen counter, take ten paces down the hallway, turn left, enter the bathroom and then spank the monkey.  Some things never change.

Copyright © 2002 Worldbridges    Copyright Policies