I found her perched on my bench the moment I came in and gently laid Netty on the opposite desk. Since she needed to preserve her strength to play with me on the road home, which as I found out just now will probably be long and winding….. No trains to Arnhem! With the Beastie Boys jamming to the tapping of my keys, I smile at the lovely voice that told me the news….

Back in the morning my first excitement was to unpack the dishwasher,
highly aroused at the prospect of returning to my work bench, to rescue
the fair maiden from her boxed in existence. She never left the
building, but her outfit needed a few careful fingers and the incidental
nail, to polish off the Scotch tape that kept her ceiling from hinging
into the sky to feed her diamonds. She was a whole lotta Rosie: the guys
at the plant had seen fit to chop her up into two boxed pieces and a
pair of envelopes, but that didn’t worry me none cause my skill sucked
it all in.

Outside the box was a great place to be, and looking at her rectangular
eyes nearly gave me the shivers: deep black, and matched with silver
streaks of eyeliner, her 22" vision looked like it had been sent from
Heaven. I gently parked her in the window, so she could watch me work on
her sister, who was slightly more developed, but came out of her
restraints deep black and with a great texture to her lovely thighs.
She’d love to work on the floor, so I gently shoved her under the desk,
facing forward in eager anticipation. Her sister I then stood upon the
desk, shining like a silver penny at the thought of her new home. Some
smaller boxes contained their friends, a bunch of stringbeans that would
love to plug into anything, regardless of polarity and gender. What they did
mind however, were mechanical clashes that would either bend or
them…..

The lady speaker blessed me with intent to thrill and a ride back home.
It would be couch, and far too cramped for my striders to park myself in
a forward way. But then again one of my traveling friends sat across
the moat, and I could dangle my feed in it to chill.

The conversation around me has a rather morbid character, despite the
positive attitude of it’s members: They do not fear death, but rather
calmly discuss the various aspect and eventualities of getting through
the event horizon, without ever mentioning it. Slabs of brown and copper
get blended out by the sun as I turn my head off to take a last look at
the intriguing pattern. "Screw the driver for making me loose my head",
I think as I smile at the seeming seams that separate non-believers
from the faithless.

Returning to the lady I’d named Donna, I sat down comfortable so she
could daze and confuse me. A click to the right, and her sweet fanny
never made herself heard. But since her view indicated proper hardware
and an operator available, I sipped my coffee as she warmed up to me.
Beautiful dreams were remembered, as she was finally free from the khaki
uniform with the stripes and bars. Oeh, I just love women with an
intent to chill!

As she’d aced my entrance exam, I anesthesized her, to prepare her for
surgery. Even though she remained insusceptible to my putahtoe gaz, she
never let on that I was a bit too familiar for her taste. What was next
involved our eyes only, so let’s get serious and return to the clogged
train station, where I just did a nice discovery:

We were redirected from platform to platform, finally arriving on
the one. He was shielded from the outside by a caret-shaped grid of
galvanised metal. Passengers stood alongside it, in a somewhat
disorderly fashion. Many walked past as I had just glanced at a striking
beauty of the Neda variety, before coming to a halt in plain sight of
four on the floor. The walkers probably never noticed, but there was
something peculiar about the foursome: They were evenly balanced
according to gender, but evenly matched too in a fuzzy kind of way.
Where a crew cut grew on one, the other had it longer. Yet both wore
faded army jackets of only marginally different cut. Add to that the
jeans in blue, and family never looked so close. Likewise, the ladies
had faces that wouldn’t betray any claim to mutual familiarity. They too
wore garments that were like two peas in a pod…

And as I sat down in the train, the doubles doubled up: a family came
in, of which the boys were quite curious about Netty. Though they looked
the twin part, some conversations with a proud and beautiful set of
parents revealed the reverse verdict: brothers, yes, but degraded by
time from the closer bond. Had my streak of duplicate oneness ended
there, then I’d have been more than happy, but the trail continued:
beyond the Indian mum with the dark eyes, there was a girl who could
have been her sister, and further still: the thrill of darkness called Seda!

With my train almost evacuated by restricting voices coming over the
com, I remain seated on the floor to lay my egg and keep my One in
check….

With just one cell phone besides my own, the conversation comes to an
abrupt halt as we dive into the radio whole that blossoms just beyond the
station. I’m not counting on any expectation, for I have none: the one
thing I do have is the absolute knowledge of dynamic density changes
designed to never collide or merge. Anything of that Nature would only
counteract the unstoppable attraction that is present now here….

The train ejects me short of Arnhem, but my mind is fast asleep, lucid
dreaming a perfect solution to my conundrum: no cash, no bus, and the
train returned within sight of the harbor. As I decide that walking
would be the choice of least resistance, the dam of Abundance break and
floods me with a streak of yellow and blue. Since I am neither, I kick
my thighs into high gear passing a bunch of cutiebirds, and hop on the
metalworm closer to home!

Back in One, I sit down atop the Stairway To Heaven, to continue where I left off…

Donna woke up with a Summer mood, but not enough drive to kick her
trinity of screens into lighting up. The big two are greys anyways, but
they do steal the light in her one colorful eye. Determining
assimilation as non-successful, I clean her up, and return her to her
previous station in Life. She thanks me with a blink, and starts playing
wit herself as I return to other duties. In order to get her to play
with the group, I ask my boss for an upgrade.

Meanwhile, on the magic bus, I just snapped a bunch of intriguing Light
on the wall for a more detailed explanation of themselves, but even
though they do speak the lingo of my HTC as light particles go, the
digital result is far less resolute than the info I got from my real
eight balls. They’d reveiled me to "ASK the Chef", both as a
of what is possible, as well as a bit of jest because they knew
I’d just closed Netty on the very same words.

It is truly peachy to feel like that, even peachier than the longhaired
fur jacquet of Evy von Meinbergen, whose coat I had a real live
crush on, that exceeded my interest in the very pretty but somewhat
bitchy owner. But then there are so many interesting possibilities that
get me higher than just girls….

Nature in the raw for One: even though I couldn’t care as much, I don’t
mind welltended gardens. But the force of Nature, uncut, is beyond
anything I dared to enjoy. No more I say: today, my imploded,
simply because collapsing was way too musical. Mood became a swinging
axe, which cut off my head and left me alone. I feel Neo’s as
he flexed, bulging the hallway and the entire All. What I feel too, is
his love for Trinity, but though she is still jet black and shining
bright at the same time, her features have singulated into Mass-wide
undulations. Preference is being eaten, one little lick at a time by the
cosmic kitten that emerged from Felix’s Grand Device.

Realizing that halfway is in fact home already, my mood scale becomes
zero cool right upto acid burn. Talk about a pair of begones! Neo would
have loved them as his parents…. especially because he inherited his
crash override from them.

Funny I can feel the headset the guy up front has in his ear. It is a
light sensation, enhanced by the fact that our clothing matches like the
four people back on the platform a while ago. bars divide my busted
environment into semi-cubistic sections of Life. The tarmack slides
under my feet, penetrating without sound and fury the laminate of steel,
plastics and rubber. I long for food, but still feel my Freeze 
maintain absolute zero. Where all is Silent, particle wave duality
becomes a non-issue, and Gutural expulsions reduce intolerance to a
shriveling heap on the floor. I pick it up, and gently stuff it in my
left coat pocket, to give it a proper burial later.

We rearended a traffic jam, and Black Betty immediately feels for my
attention. Boy, talk about a lady that rocked! All around town I took
her, my MP3 acting out our wildest dreams. She’s half past MILF
now, but my Granny doesn’t mind.

Suddenly shooting my Alzheimer in the head, I remember the girl that
walked in front of me earlier, a single white lily in her hair. And the
queued request from above: "ASK the Chef". Let’s see, what would be my
highest excitement Right Now?….

Right Now! Right Now! RiteNau, Write Now…..   OK, that doesn’t work!
I’ve already asked for that, and got it delivered dressed in the hottest
lingerie to my door. Vanity had nothing to do with it, but the next
traffic jam resets the controls to full freedom. Yes, that’s it! On the
right there was a guy in an old BMW, hood popped, obviously in need of
being impregnated with a plentyful splash of downright unexpected luck!
Could you guys and gals arrange to feed him a lightning fast resolution
of his problem, and a speedy ride home?

Ask, and expect with extreme prejudice. Then add zero cool, and Liberate
your expectations with a rightful heritage of Amnesia. Head for home
with those that remain, and never doubt yourself ever again!

So instead of ASK-ing the Chef, I should maybe just declare that I write the Truth, no matter what!


Love present involvements,

Dre’

P.S. The bus just past a Dad in stride, Jungfella on his neck. As
he tried to hail the bus, I grab and flap, and start to tap. He’ll have
a ride before I get off!