Police Poop

            On Tuesday morning I memorized the first two verses and the chorus of "Les femmes ça fait pédé” (Women Are So Very Gay) by Serge Gainsbourg. The idea is that women are so gay and feminine in one sense that it makes them gay in the other sense and they attract gay men to them for that reason. This is the first Gainsbourg song from 1978 and there are only two others. I guess he was too busy recording his reggae album in Jamaica to put out many songs that year. 

             I weighed 89.2 kilos before breakfast. I made a second attempt at scrubbing the inside of my oven door with baking soda but only spent forty minutes on it this time. A little more of the window glass along the rim was cleared of black, caked in grease and there are now speckles of clarity scattered throughout the middle. 

            I weighed 88.7 kilos before lunch. I had kettle chips with salsa and yogourt. For dessert I mixed the juice from a can of peaches with coconut milk and honey. 

            In the afternoon I took a bike ride. Under the railroad overpass on Brock a cop’s horse had dropped some shit. I was thinking why can't these people pick up after their pets like everyone else has to. I caught up with the cop at the College light and a little red floppy eared dog sticking its head out of a little red car was barking angrily at the police horse, which caused three dogs being walked across the street to join in the argument. 

            On Bloor there was a young guy in a toque and sunglasses doing tricks on a big tired bike with a sound system. He cut down the lane behind Yonge Street. I went down Yonge to Queen and headed west and at University the same young guy turned onto Queen. He was either just ahead or just behind me well into the west end as he popped almost vertical wheelies. I was worried that he was going to land on his back in the middle of the street because I’ve seen that happen, but he stayed in control. He even apologized when he got in my way once. 

            I weighed 88.4 kilos after my bike ride. 

            I worked a bit on my poem series “My Blood in a Bug.” 

            I worked on my project of synchronizing the video of the 1998 Riot Gallery performance of my song Instructions for Electroshock Therapy by Christian and the Lions with audio of the studio recording we made a few years later. The video intro is longer than the audio and so I spent more than an hour cutting bits off the beginning. By dinnertime they were about a second short of being lined up. I should have them in synch tomorrow and then I want to look for some outside footage, perhaps of wriggling snakelike cables to fit in the beginning and replace some of the guitar playing that doesn’t fit with the audio. 

            I had french fries and five chicken tenders while watching two episodes of Andy Griffith. 

            In the first story the Mayberry centennial is approaching. There is an annual play about the founding of Mayberry that features a character called “Lady Mayberry” who does a monologue that is crucial to the play. Clara usually performs the part while Bee does the costumes, but suddenly Bee is feeling too much in the background. She did theatre when she was a child and received some accolades for her work so when Clara is called away to care for her ailing sister, Bee steps up. But it turns out that Bee is horrible at the part. John Majors the director asks Andy to break it to her that she can’t have the part. When Clara comes back to town Andy gets an idea how to get Bee to give up the play. Andy invites Clara to take care of him and Opie while Bee is working on the play. Bee can’t stand to have anyone else in her kitchen but what clinches it is when she hears Clara casually recite the role of Lady Mayberry. She is so good that Bee tells her to take back the part. 

            In the second story the darling family return to Mayberry and Charlene has a new baby. But it's not a social visit as in the mountain tradition they are looking for a boy to betroth to little Andalina so they can get married when they are older. After a day of unsuccessful looking they visit Andy and when they see Opie they declare that he is the one to marry Andalina. Andy says no but Briscoe won't take that for an answer. Finally, as usual Andy has to find a roundabout solution to this problem. Briscoe has an engagement contract for both Andy and Opie to sign and Andy agrees. Andy says something to Opie who runs upstairs, coming back with a pen. Andy says some nonsense words and gestures over the contract and then they both sign. Seconds later however their signatures disappear and Briscoe thinks they are witches and the deal is off. They are okay with being friends with witches but they don’t want them in the family.