Lunch with a new friend

I had lunch today with Dark Matter. I’d heard it was 85% of the Universe, yet unknown to everyone. I wanted to get to know it.

First thing I learned, Dark Matter really likes pasta. It ordered spaghetti with turkey meatballs. It poured a big quantity of Parmesan cheese on the noodles. It ate it all in one big bite, but took a half hour to chew it thoroughly.

Second, I learned that Dark Matter is a fancy dresser. It wore a confetti-spangled aluminum like fabric shirt. Dark Matter said it couldn’t be seen, so it wore the shirt so it wouldn’t look like I was eating by myself. I asked what the shirt was made of. Dark Matter said rayon. I asked what it liked about rayon. Dark Matter said, “It’s soft.”

Third, Dark Matter has never seen a movie or television. Not even the Matrix, or Back to the Future. I asked Dark Matter if I could take it to a movie after lunch. Dark Matter thanked me but said it wasn’t interested. I moped, but it wouldn’t change its mind.

Okay, enough

A man sits on my steps.

He’s in my way. I ask him to move. He stays.

I try and step over him. He grows three times in size. I fall back on the sidewalk.

I leave and go to a movie. The movie is about a dog that doesn’t have a name. Everyone loves to pet the dog, but they don’t know what to call it.

I leave the movie and come back to my steps. The man sits in the same position. He is normal size.

I move to step over him and he shrinks until I can’t see him anymore. I enter my house.

I sit on my couch.

I get up and look out the front window. The man sits on the steps. He is regular size. He looks back at me.

It was delicious

I was having difficulty writing a blog post, so I got in my time-machine and rode to the year 9, the spring, to Tomas, Romania, a small shack overlooking the Black Sea. A man was sitting at a butcher block, writing. It was the famous Roman poet, Ovid. He was really famous.

With Google translate Latin, (remember my time-machine has time-space wi-fi) I introduced myself, mentioned I was from the future, and said I was looking for writing tips. Ovid sighed and said, “I have nothing to offer you.” I said, “But you were really famous. You must have been doing something right.”

Ovid looked out the window and sighed again. He was really good at it. He said that he had been exiled by the Emperor Augustus for something he had written. He said, “What is good when it is the cause of such bad?”

I thought about what he said. Why did I need to write something profound? No one reads my blog posts. Why even write them? It’s wasting time I could spend laying in bed, watching my mind flow in and out of sleep.

I thanked Ovid and said that I would be on my way. Ovid said, “Would you please stay a little while? I am lonesome and could use the company. Would you like a piece of pound cake?” I said that I would. He got me a plate. It was delicious.

Quandarying

I was combing my cow, Maxie, when I was suddenly visited by a ghost couple. They were arguing in German. I knew because my Maxie the cow speaks a little German.

Maxie the cow said, “I think he’s saying something like, ‘Margaritte, the sandwich which starts out whole, gets digested by the eater.’ And she seems to be saying, ‘Ludwig, you fool, it’s your own fault if your hungry. If you’d just eaten before the death moment.'”

Their arguing became louder and more animated. I asked for further details. Maxie the cow said, “Okay, it appears as if he’s saying, ‘I meant a supposition of concept, not a literal transcription.’ And I think she’s saying, ‘You’re a fool for trying to find deeper meanings when it’s enough that we are ghosts randomly wandering the universe.'”

I went back to combing Maxie. I asked if she would comb me when I was done. She said, “I’m still not able to comb you with my hoof.”

So much for Caesium

I had the day off from my work as quality control at the Powser’s pickle factory and decided to take a time-travel trip. I chose to go to the afternoon of May 13th, 1861, and to Dürkheim, Germany, the University of Heidelberg, room zwölf, the laboratories of Gustav Kirchhoff and Robert Wilhelm Bunsen.

Kirchoff and Bunsen were looking through their duel eye-piece spectroscope. They spoke in high animated tones. Kirchoff was waving his arms, Bunsen was grabbing clumps of his own hair. I cleared my throat and they looked over at me. I had my phone set to Google German translate. (My time machine has time/space wi-fi.) I opened a bottle of champagne and said, “Congratulations on discovering the element Caesium!” Kirchoff and Bunsen shook my hands, drank directly from the bottle, and sang the popular ditty, Darn, I Love Your Knitted Ways.

I told them I was from the future, and their discovery will make a difference because caesium is the basis of the world clock. The clock keeps time by blasting a caesium atom with energy, which reacts with pulses of light 9 billion times a second, thus keeping time accurate and safe for everyone. Kirchoff, the moodier of the two, said “That’s it? It’s a fancy watch?” and poured the caesium down the drain, flushing it with water. Cesium reacts explosively with cold water, so the sink exploded and the laboratory caught fire. The three of us barely got out in time.

I wished them the best and came back to my usual time and space. I was tired, so I took a nap.