The faded orange toilet plunger, ya know, it was just suspended there in the middle of my kitchen, defying all laws of physics, causality, and good taste. It was like a metaphor for my life—absurd, nonsensical, and sandwiched between two slices of existential bewilderment. I, being the neurotic, self-deprecating individual that I am, couldn't help but contemplate the enigma before me while munching on a plain, unremarkable ham sandwich. The whole thing seemed so utterly preposterous that I had to chew on something. Between bites, I couldn't help but wonder if the plunger possessed any sort of consciousness or emotional state. Did it contemplate its own rubber plunger-ness and wonder if its grimy existence had any meaning in the grand cosmic scheme of things? It's enough to make your deli meats curl in distress. As the last morsel of my sandwich disappeared into the abyss of my digestive system, I made a resolute decision. This toilet plunger, this perplexing plumber’s savior, it was no ordinary object. It was a slice—a slice, mind you—of a fifth-dimensional hologram, an otherworldly construct that made my anxieties seem as trivial, as a religious souvenir shop. And so, armed with my newfound conviction, I delved deeper into this mind-bending riddle, fueled by an insatiable desire to understand the incomprehensible. I dusted off my old Remington, purchased several magnifying eye glasses, and, with a touch of existential angst, began typing up my rambling thoughts and half-baked theories. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into moths! I submerged myself in a sea of books on quantum physics, mystical teachings, advanced irrigation and anything remotely related to the interplay between reality and the human psyche. It was as if Sigmund Freud and Albert Einstein were having a wild party in my noggin, and I was the frazzled host, attempting to make sense of it all. In the midst of my mental gymnastics, a peculiar revelation swirled in my caffeine-addled brain like creamer in a cup of lukewarm coffee. The dangling rubber plunger in my kitchen, my dear reader, was not just an idle observer but a sentient being. It communicated with me—well, not exactly with words, but with faint breathing pulses and fecal pungent odors that seemed to say, "Hey, buddy, don't try to understand me; just roll with it!" And roll with it, I did. I embarked on a crusade to enlighten the world about the metaphysical dimensions of my toilet plunger and the infinite possibilities that lay just beyond our neurotic noses. I slowly gathered an eclectic group of free-thinking intellectuals and sewage geeks, some adorned with tweed jackets and pipe smoke swirling around their heads like philosophical halos. Together we formed “The Society for the Plunge Commode Empowered Mind”. We held conferences, hosted debates, and even wrote obscure treatises with titles like "From Porcelain Gods to Black Holes: The Metaphysical Significance of a Rubber Plunger Paradigm." It was a peculiar mix of advanced irrigation discourse, surreal toilet humor, and frequent trips to the therapist's office. As news of our endeavor spread, my gravity defying plunger became a cultural sensation, adorning t-shirts, inspiring avant-garde theater productions, and sparking intense debates in trendy rest rooms across the country. A full length motion picture, “Paul Blart - Mall Cop versus the Toilet Brush Plunger People” is currently in the works!
credits
from Artificial Tales Of Gleep And Whimsy (Vol. 2),
released November 6, 2023
JT : Mix, Programming
Anthony Pomes : Electric guitar
Susan DeVita : Vocal
Mason Koensbirg : Voice
Recorded and Mixed at Suburban Hermit Studios III, Ronkonkoma, NY
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