Hommage à Black Hockey Jesus

(In memory of the late great blog which cannot be named)

Black Hockey Jesus, in the name of all that is hockeysticked and holy, without your profane blog, my life will hereafter be a trial. You inspired so many of us with your cockeyed, clear-eyed look at what’s real and what’s a flashback, dude.

While I was contemplating how our world had sacrificed you once again, an apparition showed up. If it was supposed to be some kind of ghost, it sure didn’t look like you.

A Giant Zit appeared to me in the shower last night. HUGE, like a fucking second nose, at the inside nadir of my butt on the right side, it spoke to me in a low but maybe-not-ironically-mockingly-serious tone:

GZ: I am the spirit of all that is foul. You must use the vocative in addressing me, as in “O Great One.” For I am the one.
SDF: Does that mean you’re my last zit? Cause that would be okay.
GZ: Silence! I am here to teach you about the meaning of pain. What hurts you in the middle right of your back is screaming for your attention.
SDF: Wait – my zit is talking to me about my back? You mean the injury I’ve had for the past month?
GZ: Yes, take the muscle relaxants, and sleep, but you must write! Get it out. You must “pop” me by using strong language to dig deep through your soul. You’re the one who says the body always knows. One pore will complete your story. Set that spirit free.
SDF: O Great One, I tremble at your command, but I have never popped anything sentient before.
GZ: Courage, mere mortal. If you wish to reach higher ground, your feet must labor on steep slopes. Sure, it hurts to pop a zit, but in this case, count it as developmental pain. Kinda like a stretch, only explosive.
SDF: But the suspense. The goo [shivers].
GZ: HA! I’m sure you can handle it after everything you’ve been through. Plus, it's a lousy metaphor. WAKE UP.
SDF: O Great One, this pain in my back has been abating and is nearly gone. Is the zit, I mean, are you still a profound revelation waiting to happen?
GZ: Okay, no. Just leave it and let it heal. Still, don’t take too many naps until you have this bad shit out of you. Maybe try one of those “purge” raw food diets or something.
SDF: I hear you, O Great One, but one more question, please.
GZ: Yeah, yeah, make it snappy, I gotta go infiltrate a scab on the sloppy kid with OCD next door before he peels it.
SDF: O Great One, is this zit going to gross out Mr. Fresh? Cause I was expecting some recreational activities tonight, if you know what I mean.
GZ: This man you call Mr. Fresh is powerful and determined. Grant him a word of warning, but keep me from his sight. At least, until after the act.

Jesus, I know, it’s not funny, I suck, and no one can imitate your whollyness. Because see, if it were you writing about a Giant Zit, then that fucker would be ferREAL and it would not be so damn VAGUE about what it's sayin'.

Jesus, may you rest in peace.

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