My Brush With Lazarus's Time-Space Continuum And A Booger

Super-architect and former Pharaoh, Lazarus Auyong, has a day missing from his life. He doesn't know what happened to it, doesn't have any idea what went on in the world on that day, and is pretty much resigned to the fact that on that one day, he just simply did not exist on Earth.

That day was December 10, 2001.

Lazarus is unwaveringly convinced that he was in a time machine that catapulted him a day forward into December 11, thus depriving him of the experience of an entire day.

You see, he had flown to Toronto, Canada, on December 5, and after five freezing days in the North American winter getting his testicular follicles frostbitten, he got on a plane on December 9 and duly fell asleep for 14 hours before spending another 10 hours playing in-flight games and watching in-flight movies and consuming in-flight food and depositing in-flight waste.

When they landed after 24 hours, it was December 11.

Of course, he had a Groundhog Day moment when he first landed in Canada, because he ended up in the same day as he had left.


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On another note, the CD player on my computer coughed and wheezed its final breath yesterday, in the middle of a great tune from my self-compiled Awesome Mix CD of Favourite Techno-Polka Hits.

I couldn't understand why it happened. I only remember I had an itch in my nose right before the curious incident of the CD player in the nighttime. An itch that was a real bitch. A major bitch of an itch.

Confounded and dumbfounded, I subsequently lugged the damn thing to the Honeydew & Mango Fandango Computer Hardware Store the next day, to be waxed, manicured, pedicured and permed back to working-order perfection.

When the good deed was done, the technician looked at me funny. I immediately glanced at myself, afraid that I had once more stepped out of my house absentmindedly in my pajamas.

But heck no. The technician then said, "Sir, were you picking your nose while using your computer?"

Well, I thought, what kind of a stupid-ass question is that? And an obtrusive one too! A man could very well do whatever he pleases while using his computer without fear of prosecution or interrogation by a computer technician. Hello? I could be wiping my posterior, cleaning my ingrown toenail, or my dog could be humping my leg, for all I care.

And how the hell did he know I was digging my nose? Because, well, I did.

"Sir, your CD player stopped working because the booger that was stuck on your CD fell off while the CD was spinning, and landed on the laser reader."

Oh my.