Some people have been discussing the importance of scum, specifically whether it can still have relevance in our lives. I, myself, even, am unsure of its possibilities except for illness and its rampant pillage over the territory of your stomach and bowels. What will come next? My father has buried the limp body of my dead dog in a pile of donuts at the edge of our lawn. It threatens to encroach on our neighbors hedges. Our neighbors, in this instance, consist of Myrna and Clifford. They are not unwise, for they camp on their front lawn every Saturday and feast upon lemons during the night. They refuse to open their mail. We have stretched an elastic cord from the tree at the foot of our front lawn to our front doorknob; we feel it is best this way. No intruder shall make their frisky, expectant way across this lawn, seeking undeserved treats within the walls of our sturdy home. (For instance oven cleaner, cushions, travel discounts).
Yesterday afternoon my family was sitting in the living room, watching our cat, Herbert, rap against the window, balancing himself precariously on the sill. Some of us sat on the couch, some on a chair, some on the floor. We sipped tall glasses of ginger ale and spoke about various things which were "of interest". I cannot be more specific.
Our sense of safety and plenitude quickly began to collapse. Herbert meowed insistently from the other side of the glass. My father removed scum from the kitchen cupboard and began to ration it out to all of us, including Herbert (at this point, we decided it best to allow him back into the house). We applied it to the correct places, according to the accompanying pamphlet. We waited half an hour.
Whatever happened next hardly matters, because my girlfriend just called to tell me that she intends to lie to me about whom she is escorting to the party tonight. I thought we (she and I) would go together, but now I am not so sure, due to cryptic behavior by the one who preoccupies my mind with a large bum.
Father has finished baking his sourdough loaf, so I must go and taste of its freshness. We have not so many exciting loaves of bread in the world due to carelessness and lack of anything. I am crying inside.