When Is A Dude Not A Dude?

“Dude? Dude? Where in the f …”

Ow!!!

“Who said that?”

I did. What’s left of me, anyway.”

“Well, I don’t see your left, or your right eith … Ow!!!

“Did you feel my right, dude?

“Dude! Is that you? But where are you?!?

“Right here, dude.”

“But where is here, dude? I don’t see you anypl …

OW!!!!

“What’s all that thumpin’ and bangin’ …?”

“It’s called ‘the agony of de foot‘, dude. What the hell’s gotten into you, huh? You walk into a bank of flashbulbs or somethin’, so you can’t see where you’re goin’?”

“I can see fine, dude, but …”

“I don’t want you to see Fine, whoever he is, dude. I want you to see me. Before I have to walk on my hands.”

“But, dude … that’s gotta mean, you’re invisible!

“Du-UDE. I’m in Honolulu same as you, in the same room as you and close enough to stomp on your …”

OW!!! But I can’t see you!

Enough of this, dude, it’s late and I’ve got to get to work early tomorrow morning.”

“Will they be able to see you?”

“Does it matter? Does any boss see who works for his yacht payments?”

“No, dude, I’m serious. Pull out your driver’s license, willya?”

“Right there, dude.”

“Um … ok … read me the expiration date?”

“You tellin’ me you can’t see that either? It’s 15 August 2009 … uh oh, it’s expired.”

“Passport?”

“You kiddin’?”

Birth certificate?”

“Riiight, dude. What’s it gonna show? ‘Born: April Fools Day 2006. Birthplace: Berkeley, California. Father: OC. Mother: Apple MacBook.’ Who the hell’s gonna believe all that?”

“Dude. You know what this means?”

“No. Do I wanna know?”

“Yeah. You do. It’s kinda important. It means, according to the Laws of these Untied States, you don’t exist!

“But, dude! I’m right here!

“You can call yourself any name you want, but none of ’em will get you a bank account in this country until we get this ID stuff fixed. If we can. It doesn’t look good. Stay away from mirrors for awhile, dude, it might freak you out.”

“But you know I’m real, don’t you, dude? Don’t you??”

“I dunno, dude. Looks like we’re going to have to work through this by feel …”

OWWW!!!

Tip of the propeller beanie to Dr. John for the inspiration for this post – with every good wish for the speedy recovery of his existence under the laws that We the People have enacted.

– O Ceallaigh
Copyright © 2009 Felloffatruck Publications. All wrongs deplored.
All opinions are mine as a private citizen.

This entry was posted in Dude and Dude, humor, satire, We the People and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to When Is A Dude Not A Dude?

  1. davis says:

    you’ve got to read about the South African “female” sprinter

  2. The Amoeba says:

    I did, Davis, and wish I hadn’t. The tale has uncapped a truly awesome cauldron of Our ignorance, and revealed Our astounding capacity for arrogantly proclaiming that ignorance to the world and beyond.

    I was raised to understand the self-limiting power, and socializing good works, of the concept of SHAME. I wish there still was some of that in the world.

  3. Thom says:

    I”m beginning to feel like everyone and everything is a figment of my imagination. 🙂

  4. Dr. John says:

    I’m within ten days of existing. It cost me $50 to get a certified birth certificate from the Marquette County Courthouse but I guess its worth it.
    Soon I will be again.

  5. Quilly says:

    Dr. John — born again? 😉

Comments are closed.