Toluu : Do You KNOW Clarence?™

Do You KNOW Clarence?™

Music: “Lower Your Eyelids to Die With the Sun”, by M83

Sucka Free Sunday is also available in HD.

“I’m sorry I can’t go to your birthday party today.”

“What party?” I say to Jimmy Gonzales, my third grade classmate, who stares at me with those freaky bug-eyes of his.

Jimmy turns and heads off towards the other side of the playground. The yard is filled with children in school uniforms. A turbulent ocean of white shirts, blue vests, corduroy pants, and plaid skirts. The day is almost over, and, the teachers of St. Anthony Catholic School always allow for a final recess before turning us loose on our parents.

In the distance I see Sean Kennedy about to do a fantastic dive off the top of the tire stack into a pile of cedar mulch.

I run straight at him, waving my arms like a monkey on a banana-binge. By the time I reach him, I am out of breath.

“Dude?”

“Do you know anything about a surprise birthday party for me?”

Sean considers his answer, takes a step back, and disappears from view. A second later he is flying off the top of this huge mound of tractor trailer tires, the human cannonball, into the cedar.

When he emerges, his usually perfect Afro is now nappy and covered in bits of mulch.

“Yeah, man,” he nods and begins dusting himself off. “We’re all supposed to go to your house for a party after school.”

My heart starts racing like a thoroughbred at the Long Acres track. I am having a birthday party. My first birthday party. My first surprise birthday party

Symbolic Narrative 10.08October 13

Tossed Salad CrashSeptember 15

It is surprisingly warm to be so early in the morning. While I adjust the height of my seat post, sweat begins to form on my brow, just under the rim of my world champion striped helmet. It is Monday, and I am getting set for my daily commute to the office.

After checking the tire pressure of both wheels, I throw my leg over the chrome top tube of my ride. Despite getting too much sleep, I am feeling solid and start to roll on.

My Nike Dunk Gyrizo’s clip in to the pedals with ease, and I check my seating position one more time after a couple of revolutions in the saddle.

“Hmm, not quite right”, I think to myself.

Tapping out a cadence on Broadway, I am already annoyed that I’ve lowered my seat too much. My thighs are starting to burn, too early, and despite being clipped into my pedals, I am not getting a strong pull all the way around.

I try to ignore the fact that I spent thirty minutes adjusting my seat just this past weekend and it still feels uncomfortable. The breeze as I roll down Holland street does little to cool my head while the smell of breakfast wafts out of Renee’s Cafe, dancing in my nostrils for just an instant.

Once I hit Davis Sq. my stride comes of age and I begin to concentrate on the road ahead. There are no red lights just outside the square, and I turn it up just a little bit to see if I have got the legs to go hard this morning. The gusting headwind gives me an excuse to ease back as I weav

Planet Wifey #93, She Doesn’t Get HighAugust 24

Wifey: “…oh, I like this song!”
Me: *singing*
Wifey: “It sounds like that group whose music you can get high to!”
Me: *looks*
Wifey: “…you know the ones, they are always singing about California!”
Me: “You have never gotten high…”
Wifey: “You know what I mean!”
Me: “Red Hot Chili Peppers.”
Wifey: “Yeah! They have the music that sounds all surreal, like you’re high!”
Me: “I am so glad you do not get high.”
Wifey: *raises arms and screams*
Wifey: “Whoooooohhhhh!!!”

Planet Wifey is our comic-life strip counting down the 100 reasons why I love my wife.