A Pee And Cosmic Related Debris

Something awakens me from a deep sleep. Opening my sleep sanded eyes has little effect, it is pitch black here. The air moves about me, the hairs on my legs moving sporadically to it's slightly cooling oscillating zephyrs. Someone croaks out a muted "fuck you" in the gloom, and I come fully awake and mutter back a "fuck you too" to the offending foul mouthed creature lurking in darkness. "Where the hell am I?" I wonder for a moment, still a bit disoriented. "Oh yeah. In the village. In Thailand." I remember, mumbling groggily to myself. I always talk to myself at times like these, just some moral support for the remaining brain cells as they struggle to get functioning.

My hand grazes a warm butt covered in red silk. I know it's red because I bought it. I run my hand under the silk and caress some naked Thai booty. The wife's to be exact. She mutters something, pulls the hem of her nighty down, and rolls away. A tautness in my groin catches my attention. Godzilla is awake too it seems. Fully. I realize he is standing at attention, ever vigilant, keeping me from pissing the bed. Ah ha! That's what woke me. I gotta piss. I crawl to the end of the bed and try to not knock over the oscillating floor fan in the dark, which I have done before, more than once. Makes a hell of a racket. "Where the hell is the fucking door?" I swear softly, while feeling about the wall for the exit. I find the knob and twist the door open and stub my toe on the stupid threshold, stifling a grunt, and more foul language. Another "fuck you" greets me from the living room. Like Dr. Dolittle I converse with the animals, and send out another whispered "fuck you too" back to the verbally repetitious reptile. I'm being chastised by the wild life for interrupting their nocturnal feasting it seems. Although the mosquitos seem to be enjoying my floundering about naked in the dark in the moist night air.

Feeling a bit faint from the loss of blood, the mosquitos here are voracious, I bumble my way like a blind man without his cane past the refrigerator, and feel for the hong nam (bathroom) door and light switch. I slap the door with my hand twice, a warning to whatever critters may be partying in the water closet that they have company coming and it's time to clear the fuck out, and I switch on the light. Slitting my eyes against the brilliant 20 watt fluorescent bulb I peek into the bathroom to see if anything big enough to need killing has decided to stick around. A good habit to get into while staying in a Thai village house in the middle of nowhere in Bumfuck Isaan. Some weird creatures like to hang around the bathroom late at night in Isaan. A guy once told me of opening his bathroom door to find a cobra in there one night. God save me from that thrill. Godzilla precedes me, and leads the way to the toilet unerringly. He knows the drill.

I lean one hand against the wall and gingerly force my monster to submit to pointing in a downward direction, so I can piss in the hopper instead of against the wall. I move my feet back another few inches to get the required angle of the dangle. Something tickles my hand on the wall and I see I've become a road obstacle for the endless marching battalion of ants that seem to be ever present. Where the hell they're coming from, and where they're going to, still remains a mystery to me, but they're always there—-24/7. The little fuckers never seem to take a break from their endeavors. They need a union I believe. I piss like a racehorse and revel in the blessed relief of an emptied bladder. Only an orgasm feels better than a good piss.

I grab a towel and wrap it around my nakedness, while Godzilla returns to his much needed slumber. Grabbing my smokes and lighter from the top of the refrige I slither out the back door, once again almost breaking a leg on the goddamned 3 inch step that I always forget is there. Urinating in the village can be dangerous at night. The hazards of Isan living. I almost end the life of a huge toad in my stumble out the back door, my size ten paw missing crushing him by a millimeter or so. He glares at me, hops a few paces away, and pisses on the concrete. Another Gekko tells me to go fuck myself and I return the compliment, while telling him to shaddup and eat some more mosquitos before I replace him with a more modern electrical appliance that kills flying pests …….. a bug zapper. He tells me to fuck off. Typical.

I snag a seat at the table behind the house and light a smoke. Tilting my chair back against the wall of the house I gaze at the black velvet night sky and marvel at the grandeur of the diamond studded view above me. All the suns of the universe are spilled across the sky like God's own jewelry shop showcase. I suck in some more of my nicotine fix and blow a few smoke rings around a galaxy or two, and claim them as my own Cosmic Debris. A lizard continues his vituperation and I flip the bird in his direction, bastard. Look it brother, who you jiving with that cosmic debris? I fidgeted around a bit.

Out of the corner of my eye I spy the toad lashing out with his tongue to grab an unwary cricket for dinner. Sweat begins to slide down my chest and settle into a puddle in my bellybutton. My thoughts return to the feel of a warm red silk covered butt just a few feet from where I was sitting. I no longer wonder what the hell I'm doing here, thousands of miles away from my own civilization and people. I'm bewitched and addicted, an indisputable fact. I leave to always return. I have no choice in the matter any more. Thailand calls to me when I'm away, seductively, sweetly, irresistibly. I'm hooked.

I toss my ciggy butt at the toad, rise from my chair, and go back inside the house. My night vision being attuned now, I make my way to the bedroom without mishap and slide back into the bed. I hear the silk clad source of my addiction purring in slumber, and Godzilla stirringly approves my lecherous thoughts as I once again wake my lass in a way she always seems to enjoy. She's another one of God's treasures. A gift from God more wonderful and lovely than the star strewn heavens. I proceed to enjoy his creation. In a semi-sacrilegious sorta way of course!

Cent
(The Central Scrutinizer)

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