Last night was so exciting. Pukey took 3 or 4 extra percacet pain pills just to get ready, splashed on an extra gob of Jovan Musk, and carefully opened the buttons on his lone silk disco-shirt, the one he wore in Aruba.
The loneliness was gonna be over, at last! Soon, very soon, all those semi-anonymous names (about 2 dozen, in total) on the sign-up list , would begin to be matched with faces, with bodies, with phone numbers, with----who knows WHAT!!
The long nights blogging, while wifey snored upstairs were just a thing of the past. Reverend Jesse Jackson's words began ringing in his scruffy , cigarette-ash-filled ears:
I - AM - GONNA - BE- SOME BODY !
At last! Not a puke anymore! More than a feeling ! Tonight's da Night! Tonight Pukey and Looney (the French guy) were gonna get to hand out leaflets! Officially! If NRC granted them permission for a damn table IT MUST MEAN THEY REALLY EXIST, RIGHT?
With butterflies in his tummy (green ones, of course), he ran down the 18 concrete steps from 351 Dyckman, turned right, and jumped into Yardfart, which was parked nose-in across the sidewalk! His mind raced..... "NRC & Me...Wheeeee!" "NRC & Me...Wheeeee!"
"I BEEZE AN ACTIVIST!"
Over long years, the NRC tactic of trying to reach the public, at local meetings, had failed entirely, attracting, instead of "the public", a looney bagattelle of unkempt eccentric walking wounded angry-thingies, monstrosities that came to life once every six months, not under the influence of the full moon, like wolfman, but under the influence OF NRC ITSELF!
Pukey didn't know it yet, but he felt the rush!
He was....
AN NRC GROUPIE, ....AT LAST !!!!
TAGS:
Martinelli Nuclear Pukey Looney Sherwood Lonely Loser Filthy Ugly Scruffy NRC-Stalker
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
indian entergy point nrc nuclear
