Wednesday 2/20/2008 12:29:00 AM

My conversation with the onion was just getting interesting when the garlic interrupted with some schematics for its time machine. It said something about global warming, straightened its leg warmers and blamed madonna before it disappeared into someplace I had already been.

I kept cutting. I had a tuna sandwich echo repeating in my belly.

I was surprised when the garlic returned only moments later with a feathered haircut and wearing acid washed jeans. It said it had been there. Back to the eighties. Cold war. Gorbechov. Nancy. And the slutty virgin. It laughed. You think I stink?

And then it zipped off to the future. Warning me not to visit. If I can help it.

The onion didn't care at all. And I wouldn't have either if my garlic wasn't gone.

Everything leaves. Somethings do it better.

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