On Bladder-Busters and Obsessed Grandmas

Matt here. Woke up at about 4:30 for one of my famous early morning bladder buster pisses and saw some flashing lights out the window. 
 
I figure it's the end of the month, probably some cops trying to meet their quota, but I quickly realized they weren't from a cop car. The lights were subdued, like hardly visible, but changed colors like one of those old-school fiber optic things your grandma used to be obsessed with like ten years ago that looked like a cartoon afro on her coffee table, y'know? No? Just me? Cool, cool.
 
I went outside to check the source of the lights and they were coming from the sky. I didn't see the source (above clouds) but in case it's aliens or whatever, guard your butts I guess.
 
Be safe, Chattanooga, but not so safe as to not need to be supernaturally fumigated by a street rat and his homie. Daddy needs a paid electric bill, y'all.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Introducing The BBP Blog

Cool, thanks for bein' here! I'll be porting stuff over from the Blue Dopamine Doomscroll Hellscape page and showing a bit of love to our OGs. Don't worry--we'll keep that page but for now, mostly just as a link between y'all and, uh... well, this. In lieu of an actual post, have an ASCII butt: (  )(  )
Read more

An Eyeful of Terrance

Bo checking in. Got called out for a Bigfoot sighting tonight. Normally my answer is, "Wrong forests," but Judy had a blackberry cobbler coming out of the oven, so I figured I'd at least go out for that.   Unfortunately we weren't aware her husband had also gotten into the blackberries and made wine. Then fortified it. Then stripped nekkid and ran around the back forty growling at Lord knows what.   The good news is that I got fresh hot cobbler; the bad news is I also got an eyeful of Terrance. I guess the other good news is that there is no Bigfoot in Hixson tonight (or, you know, any other night).
Read more

Once-Upon-a-Matt

Matt here, checking in.    There's nothing to do here and nowhere to go because everything in Blackbottom is meticulously engineered to incentive poverty and ya boi is broke as shit , so I was walking around because so far, that's free, when I saw a kid in the ditches on 46th Street who looked exactly like Once-Upon-A-Matt.  Seriously, this kid had shoulder-length black hair, an ill-advised wallet chain, and a Lacuna Coil shirt that I'd bet he's going to grow out of around sophomore year of college, if I had two pennies to bet.  I thought maybe it was just an echo. Time repeating itself, like it's failing its own calibration and trying to correct being out of phase. Like that Civil War soldier I got to watch get shot every night in the backyard when I lived in Dawson, Alabama. Or like one of the handfuls of quasidecent explanations of the Mandela Effect.  But I don't remember doing the stuff he was doing.  Now, generally, that's no surprise. As a kid, I pla...
Read more