Rough Trade February 8, 2012Posted by The Typist in New Orleans, Toulouse Street.
Looks like I’m trading posting for the Rough Endoplasmic Reticulum, which I don’t like the sound of at all: something like the snapping of latex gloves right, um, behind you just before he reaches for the speculum.
That thing that looks like Blue Meanies might pop out of it at any moment is the Golgi apparatus, named after one Golgi whom I believe was one of Stalin’s most effective interrogators. The little coffee bean thing is a mitochondria. (Coffee bean equals energy. Coffee bean equals energy. Repeat until you fall asleep]. That big purple looming thing is the nucleus. You don’t want to know what goes on there. It’s really twisted. Those little round thingies are, um, vesicles [I think}, which dart around Cytoplasm City rather like George Jetson’s car doing all sorts of useful things, which is very unlike George Jetson. And they don’t fold up into a brief case.
How many times have I told you or them or someone not to cram, to which they grunted and asked if I could just run out to the all night store to pick them up some nasty tasting energy drink. I’m fond of the Guayana mate’ drinks at the Mardi Gras Zone if you’re offering.
The long and short of it is; Krewe du Vieux and biology of the non-reproductive sort (unless were talking about centrioles, mind you) do not mix. I can feel the Osmotic Pressure building. I think I need an Iso Gin and Tonic. And more 3×5 cards.