O Tannenbaum & All of the other Baums

Felix the Cat
Originally uploaded by nlejuste

On Friday night there was some snowfall on the ground, outside of all of our warmwarm humidless houses and establishments. I went to visit Tom and Jessica and they had the fireplace turned to eleven, and we sat on couches and watched Felix the Cat silent cartoons from 1924, and fortified it with a mix of Vince Guaraldi jazz and obscure oldies, and drank and watched for synchronizations. It was a brilliant uninteractive activity, even though it almost seemed as if we should have been passing around a bong as well. Or a blunt. Or whatever the other marijuana things are called.

The flue capitulated over the entire duration. The house was filled with smoke. I figured that the harm was already captured, and so there was no point in turning down two clove cigarettes. My lungs wretched all of the next day, but i don't know whether to blame the cloves or the beechtree wood, or whatever was on the hearths.

I wished that i could tell wood just by the smell that it makes while burning, but this is a talent that i lack all sorts of.

My unwashed and plentiful hair also wreaked as if it belonged to a homeless man populating an italian garden. I was something special, destined to fall asleep.

Felix stayed out all night, drinking liquor, or Flapper-inspired concoctions containing opium. His wife watched the clock at home, tapping her kitty foot and flaunting her dough-rolling pin.

Colin Bailey brushed his snare all the while.