Friday, September 11

cosmoose's last supper

cosmoose comes from a very strange place... i believe the planet his people are from is very cold, very snowy and very depressing... sometimes, i'll be at zargle's, getting drunk by myself (it's a thing i do) and i'll see cosmoose, sitting at the bar, weeping, for no good reason, looking like he doesn't have a friend in the world... must be tough for him.
now, i don't know how long cosmoose has been on this shitbucket, but i suspect it's been a long fucking time. it ain't easy on any of us, but if you are predisposed to maudlin thoughts and melancholic moods, this place is a free coupon for suicide.

again, not good for a melancholic moose... and it'd gotten really bad for him lately. it was winter (back on his planet, i suppose) so the depression was even worse. the curious thing was that they actually really enjoy being depressed. you ask any robodoc, and all their brain juice levels that indicate joy are elevated the more depressed they say they are... when you point this out, they get even more depressed at the thought that THIS is what happiness feels like, and everything spirals out of control and you find lots of antlers stuffing up the shitpipes... not good for them but great for me, as i've recently convinced the black market that those fuzzy little twigs are great aphrodisiacs... make you strong, i tell them... ahh... males and their penii, no easier way to make money...

right... i've digressed... cosmoose has been in a particularly bad spiral and it's clear he's at the end of his lifespan... he can no longer take the paired joy and sorrow of happiness and depression... he's cycling so fast now that one side of his mouth is a smile, the other a frown, and tears stream from alternating eyes... it's like a horrible standing wave of emotion... i can't bear to look.

cosmoose has announced that he will be killing himself... nobody stopped him, mostly because nobody seemed to care... the manner of his death will be to gorge himself on grains, fatten his liver, take a massive dose of painkillers, have his liver removed, and served 17 different ways... cosmoose is big, so we're figuring this will be a pretty filling meal...

he sent out invitations, and starting eating tons of bread, noodles, alien versions of noodles, beer, anything of limited nutritional value and lots of calories... it was marvelous to watch him gorge... sweetened by the fact that i'd be tasting his liver very soon... it soon became the ticket to have in certain circles of the station... besides us lowlives, lots of the pseudobohos, artists and such, plus some very rich, very decadent people and some legitimately poor, hungry, near homeless folk as well... a wonderful cross section of the rotten souls that inhabit this ship, coming together to celebrate the suicide of my close friend and eat his organs...

does life get any better?

4 comments:

  1. You're really killing this recently. I await your next missive.

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  2. the angryspaceman is pleased with your comment and demands the pancreas of your firstborn

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  3. I object to my comments not posted!
    What are your rules!
    My comments was about the date you posted your moose comment. I think it is not appropriate. I forgot what was the eloquent thing I said about it in the previous comment which did not publish. Still it is still September 11 for us,
    Olga

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  4. there are no rules, gentle reader! i do not approve comments... whatever you post is done automatically and not sent to me... perhaps it was a technical glitch

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what the fuck is your problem?