Chasing the Invisible Animal: The Continuing Saga of the Somebodies -- Part 1

"Everyone who is anyone was there."

Really? Fuck. I've got to rethink my whole place here then, because I wasn't there. Shouldn't I be the one rubbing elbows with these someones? I mean, we are only here a short time, right? The minutes of my life are passing by at forty-three billion miles a second. Act one was about to end. I better get in there and say "I'm chillin" and "that's cool" and be a somebody. That's were the action is. That's were the classy beav is. It's now or never, man.

I bet there were Picasso originals on the walls being admired by Iggy Pop in between the drug stories he shared with John Kerry who talked about a better world and the benefits of a democratic society. And hell, me a real A1 front-runner on coolness wasn't there. I think this is the Invisible Animal that appears in my dreams nightly, a phosphorescent shadow three hundred feet high dancing like the darkness, arms outstretched beckoning me to take that chance. This is it. I'm in.

Assimilation would be so simple. All I would have to do is open up a catalogue to see what was decided upon as the hot haute bang-bang cool get sexy getup of the summer. Then, I would enact a mixture of stoicism and Hip Hop cool. The bitches would totally dig that. The look would be simple, the only logical thing left to do would be to learn a little more about these someones. How else would I connect with them on a personal level? And how?

What do they discuss? Being someones I would suspect they were highly intelligent, likely leaders in a variety of fields. Free thinkers, artists, and titans of industry. Somebodies. They probably piss gold records. I bet when they flick their wrists countries I've never heard of burn to the ground, lost forever but not forgotten due to the infamy of their immortal conquerors.

This may be more difficult than I had thought.

To be continued....

My Pledge to you, Loyal Reader.

All posts written by Mr. Goatlegs appearing forthwith will not feel like they were either;

A) written by someone who took the big leap and had either a full or partial lobotomy-- or

B) by a person that thinks like they did. Probably by no fault of their own.

There really is alot of this out there. Please be careful when choosing what you read, and in some cases more importantly, who wrote it.

A mind is a terrible thing to waste.