Vendetta Red's Ambulance Chaser

It may have dawned on me though I never realized the extreme importance that our society puts on electricity until two weeks ago when this area suffered an extensive blackout.  It angered me, not because I had just showered and was unable to dry my hair, but because there was literally nothing to do but sit around and stare at the wall, something that became impossible once the sun went down.

I tried playing solitaire with real cards and found it utterly insufferable.  Everything I wanted to do, write, listen to music, watch the first NFL football game of the 2011 season, was completely out of the question.  We couldn't even eat dinner.  I had to settle for Sauvignon blanc and some raspberries, not entirely unpleasant but not quite a hearty meal either.  By 8:30 there was still no lights and I was, for lack of a better word, restless.  The sun had gone down an hour earlier and across the valley I could see that some cities in our county had their electricity restored, but not us.  Even though it was a warm night, I didn't care to sit outside on the patio and smoke weed.  So I went in the house, lit some candles and smoked some weed.  I dug out a sketch pad from a few years ago and started drawing.

Luckily, fortunately, and if I believed in a higher power I would say thank god that my iPod had a sufficient charge that night.  I put in my earbuds and started drawing fiercely.  This is one of the things I came up with after listening to some Vendetta Red.  Great band by the way, excellent wordsmiths.  If I were studying for the GRE or the SAT or the GMAT or some other vocabulary test, I would definitely try to get my fill of them.

Oh and because I'm an attorney I feel that I must say "I don't own the lyrics below, just the drawing associated with them on this blog.  I am in no way affiliated with Vendetta Red, though that would be awesome, and while this isn't my favorite one of their songs, it is really quite good."  (Yes, that last part was dicta)

In fiscal flight from the ravenous cavernous orifice
asphyxiated form
Washed in wolves blood sterile and pantomimed parting in
parts the trial of the worm
Sew the lid closed cough and spit into your palm with
charitable charm
Slap the bad man's wrist insist disarm
Do the math the path is a narrow one it led me down to a cold
and shallow grave
On my tombstone I read the epitaph "Here lies the one who lived
and died a slave"
Till the vexing that his hex annexing animates his
glorious distresses
Serve the right foot raw so flawed undressed
Semi conscious concentration Christmas cards and suffocation
Ambulances beckon bodies tires squealing sirens wailing