Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Robert Nelson, Contrarian, #4

Missed the bus but then, due to my formidable logisticality, I was able to secure alt transport.
I arrive and Robert is weed whacking his front yard, he's a little self absorbed and 20 minutes later, strides, minces, totters [I wasn't paying attention] around the house festooned with gardening and safety equipment.
He puts his equipment away just so and freshens up. He has some juggling balls back on his empty racks, Alakazam sent some stuff, balls, a hot waterbottle with breasts and some books. Some other mystery mailer sent a book. Robert suspects it's 'the kid.'

5 weeks down of a 7 week program. These are supposed to be the dreadful weeks.
Robert put weight on last week.
He and Kumi rehearse vocal arrangements to use in the waiting room.
There is often a wheelchair bound Alzheimer's patient with a limited but persistent vocab there. He just yells, "Help!" "Help Me!"
Kumi and Robert croon the arrangements.
"When I was younger so much younger than today,"
"I never needed anybody to help in anyway" etc.
Robert does vocals, Kumi backing vocals.

He also yells "Hello!" Robert was stumped.
I suggested they study some Lionel Richie.

Roberts neck burns, he rubs raw aloe into it from time to time.
He went out to some haunted house event the night before, kids put it on.
The phone rings, it's a woman Robert knows. Robert listens, he tries to control it but his eyes bulge. He says
"Hell yeah!"

Seems this woman's had a thought that appealed to her regarding Robert and once relayed to Robert the appeal was mutual.
She wished to travel a long distance to stand naked over Robert while juggling machetes.
That's right.
Just let that sink in.

I have spoken to this woman, she is said to be one of the worlds most beautiful female jugglers. 
That said you can't help but be impressed with her mind. What a brilliant plan.
I hope to film it and my only cinematic requirement will be a light mist of some sort of oil on the naked juggler to accentuate the light.

The next morning Robert's up early to do his community work, he's been regularly keeping a mile or so of highway clean of litter for years. He's found dead horses, porn and money but today just finds a lonely dollar bill.

I ask him who he's most like to haunt in a bad way and he thinks then smiles then answers 'Glenn Singer.' A raft of stories follow.

The little red truck is legal but get this, the grouchy old cancer man is going to try and trade it in for a sit down lawn mower.
Whatever, it's his truck. What am I saying? It's a sacred clown car for fucks sake!
Will one of you flatulently rich jugglers who milked the wide gauge corporate teat in the eighties and nineties then invested, survived the crashes intact because of eclectic diversification and now sit on embarrassingly muscular riches.
Buy Robert a sit down mower so he doesn't give his truck to a gardening supply shop as a prop.
In fact given the erratic nature of Robert's facilities at the moment I'd even suggest the truck is taken off him for it's own good. Who could look after it? I know! I could!

So Robert needs a couple of things. He needs some well balanced juggling axes or machetes, he needs to give them to a naked woman and he gave all his own props away.

He needs you all to keep away from him. No really, he told me to tell you he doesn't like you any more and only pretended to in the first place to spare your feelings and his energy on devising  insults. Unless you have an appealing licentiousness and even then you should ring and check first..

His treatment goes until round the 15th of Nov,
His son Colman arrives this wed.
He is most grumpy in the mornings and evenings.
Kumi is well, thank you for asking.

This takes a while as I have a notebook that grinds through vid files slowly to render them webworthy.
There should be at least three to follow but I'll post this now.

and the last two

Broom Broom....


No comments: