GYSO Drawing Part 27 - Beans

Published: 2020-03-01

Introduction

Tim
Beans beans the magical fruit the more you eat the more you die.

The abyss calls forth a messenger. What does the note say? You burn your hands on the ashes as you read:

Dear You,

This post is about beans.

Your’s truly,

-Tim

Thor:

mon, feb 24 2020 at 05:45

my phone alarm goes off

Fuck no, I ain’t doing this shit. What’s the latest I can get away with getting up if I have to leave at 07:00? Like, half an hour earlier? Let’s do that instead, I’ll see you in 45 minutes.

What went right?

Tim
Its time for a story.

If my life was a movie it would be called “The Continuous Mundane Misadventures of Tim”. Don’t steal that idea, by the way, I’ll sue you for all your beans. Beans.

So here I sit on a beanbag chair typing about beans into my laptop. If only my laptop was also filled with beans… I guess that would be too powerful, and the Kenya Police Force would find me again.

Beanbag chairs. I like beanbag chairs, but I hadn’t had one of my own for quite some time (something about crippling depression or something). Imagine you filled your diaper with bees; that’s what my ass felt like for the too-long time frame I lived without a beanbag chair. Its like withdrawal symptoms for your glutes.

So I got a beanbag chair for Christmas. Believe it or not I actually had the presence of mind to answer something besides, “Revenge,” when asked, “What do you want for Christmas?” So I received a beanbag chair. I also got a titanium knife, which was weird, but that’s irrelevant. I told my doctor I would stop sharing irrelevant details.

Lo and _bean_hold the beanbag chair had a distinct lack of beanbag chair bean filling in it. Anytime I sat on it the beans would spread out and I would just end up sitting on the floor like the god damn beanless scum I am, always one step behind the true pros in my field that has beans but I’m always too scared to peruse my bean-based dreams because that would mean standing up to my bean-based expectations of myself.

Now I could have immediately gone out and bought beanbag beans and fixed this issue. I also could have used my brand new titanium knife to teach that moth in my room a lesson. Lets just say that Big Tim the moth and her 20 immaculate conception’d babies are happy that I procrasturbate. I didn’t fuck a moth.

Point is that I waited two months to buy the beans. I sat on a nearly beanless beanbag chair for two months. The things I do for love.

One day me and Big Tim the moth got sick of inferior beans, so I made the sacred pilgrimage to Meijer to buy beans. I could go into detail about the trials and tribulations I went through to get to the Meijer.

After asking one of the monks there where they kept their beans I located it. No her. She was beautiful, immaculate, full of beanbag beans. Hidden among the riff-raff was a full-body length bag full of nothing but beanbag beans. It was love at first sight.

Me and Big Tim the totally-not-a-body-pillow escaped the cursed mountain that the Meijer was built into. I protected her the whole way home like a true gentleman, of course.

Let’s back up a bit and get a lesson in beanbag beans: They’re sticky. They like to stick to everything. If I were to throw a hand full of them at the wall they wouldn’t even leave my hand. They also move around like weird ass insects in a super creepy way. Lesson over.

I brought Big Tim home and introduced her to the beanbag chair. I could tell that she was nervous, but I insisted I’d done this before and that there wasn’t anything to worry about. Of course this was a lie, I just wanted to look cool.

The first step was unzipping the beanbag chair. Already the beans were pluming out of the chair like so many spors of a particularly poisonous fungi. I told her that it was natural.

I gently layed her down on the floor, reassuring her the whole time. I got on my knees in front of her. We were both nervous, after what we’d seen from the beans, but it was a nervous excitement. I got closer, and then closer…

I brought out my knife and cut a hole in Big Tim the totally-not-a-body-pillow.

Let me tell you, the beans went everywhere. On the walls, the bed, under the dresser, in my nose, in my shoes, and in my clothing. I’m certain some of them phased out of existence to infect the outer darkness of my own dreams just to be dicks about it.

When you pour beans into a chair you don’t have enough arms to hold the hole open. As such only about 10% of the beans made their way into the chair. The rest scattered like the ants in that ant hill I pissed on that one time.

Once the deed had been done I realized something. Big Tim the moth wasn’t there.

Had she been buried in the beans?

Thor:

06:30

My alarm goes off. I realize I have to eat before I leave. I’m actively choosing to postpone my shower because I know I’m going to have to climb the entirety of the hill that I live at the base of. This, so that I can get to my bus at 07:30.

06:55

Shit I’m still eating breakfast. Haven’t packed my bag, haven’t brushed my teeth.

07:04

On the move up the base of the hill. It’s quite stunning, actually. This time of year, in my geographical location, the sun gives the sky this amazing purple hue in the early sunrise. I wish I could show you a picture, but I didn’t take any. Besides, this isn’t a blog about pictures, anyways. My bus leaves at 07:45 and I expect it to take 30 minutes to climb the hill.

07:24

Well shit, it only took 20 minutes. At this point I’m getting scared, because I see children roaming the streets, getting on and getting off buses as they’re going to school. Shit, fuck, crap, I’m going to part of the early morning commute of workers and students. This bus stop doesn’t even have a name, Google Maps doesn’t think it exists, but when I look for the closest bus stop that the transit company provides, it’s a mismatch with the name that’s on the physical bus stop. But there’s literally only one road going through this tiny village, so the bus has to pass me by somehow, anyways, right? Even if it’s not a designated stop for some reason, I can make my arms go crazy and be annoying for once so I don’t miss this bus. Because if I miss this bus, I am royally fucked.

07:47

Shit, what if this bus takes another route that doesn’t pass me by?

The transit company says the bus is 7 minutes late.

That limits the 15 minute leeway I had once I got to my destination down to half, maybe, if you don’t consider the possibility that the bus might stop more than to just pick me up. Fuck. I haven’t even been in this place before, I really need the time to make sure I get to my destination on time so that there’s no penalty towards me.

the bus arrives

I’m let on. I feel stressed. But I’m reminded of my old days where I would commute by bus for 53 minutes single-trip for school. It’s nice and nostalgic.

08:13

Yeah, I have 7 minutes. Good things I prepared Google Maps on everything.

08:18

I AM A MASTER NAVIGATOR THIS MUST BE ENTRANCE FUCK YEEAAAA…

why is the entrance unmarked?

why does this look like a facility made for elder care?

why are there children running around in a day-care looking facility literally a stone throw away?

oh, right, because this is housing for the elderly, not at all what I was looking for.

Let’s look up the actual address of this place, instead of relying on Google Maps general description tags and whatnot.

08:21

I’m there? There’s the sign and the entrance, here we fucking go ya mad lads I haven’t done this in, like, a year, I’m excited and nervous at the same time.

08:23

My new dentist calls me in for my appointment.

08:38

My teeth are better. That was a nice routine visit. Now let’s go home.

What went wrong?

Tim
The de-beaning had to commence, so I could find Big Tim the moth.

After successfully scattering beans all throughout my house I finally retrieved the vacuum cleaner. Turns out beans take a lot of space in vacuums, so I had to go back (tracking more beans everywhere) and get a trash bag.

The de-beaning was grueling, arduous work. It was punctuated with moments of fear. Was that speck Big Tim? No it’s just a stain. Was that Big Tim? No, it’s a fragment of shattered Obama Chia Pet.

And then I found her. She was drowned in beans, along with her totally immaculate conception’d children. There were no survivors.

I gave them a proper burial, of course. The highest honor for a moth: sucked by a vacuum. Don’t believe me? I think I might know a bit more about moth culture than you, punk.

I cried knowing that she died watching me disembowel the other Big Tim. That used to be her favorite thing. In her last moments I broke her heart and then drowned her. I promised to never forgive myself.

So after that I threw away the trash. I wonder what the trash man would think if the bag of beans exploded while he was moving it.

Thor:
> 08:40

When did my bus leave? 10:00, right? An hour to kill is fine, I can take a 30 minute walk and then pick up some groceries and be on my way.

Oh it’s actually 10:30?

And I would have to walk down the hill I climbed this morning?

Fuck.

There’s a bus that leaves 09:20, that would take me literally twice the distance I’m looking to go, so that I can take a bus that takes me back half the distance and leaves me at the top of the hill.

Why did I buy groceries, again?

09:20

These long-distance transit buses sure do carry a lot of people in rush traffic.

09:40

I’m literally in the next town over. Why can’t I just go to the dentist here? Right, because my town village is the last bordering society of that municipality, but taking public transit there is a pure nightmare. It’s easier to get in and out of this current town I’m in that to where my dentist is located. Fuck that’s annoying.

Oh hey, friend from school. Talking to someone is exactly what I need, being all sweaty from climbing hills, being late and stressed to dentist appointments, and carrying groceries on my back. Oh, you were just at the genital clinic, how nice. Yeah, good on you for getting yourself checked. (Author’s note: this is a huge abbreviation and simplification of what actually happened, and what our time together contained, but out of comedic interest I’m cherry picking a single quotable thing that happened and I’m leaving out the rest of the actually private stuff)

10:00

Bus leaves. I suddenly remember the extra layer of clothing I took on to keep myself warm at 07:00 to protect myself from the early morning cold. It’s not early morning anymore, it’s not that cold, and I’m carrying heavy shit.

10:17

At the top of the hill. Time to walk down. Have a nice chat about learning and lessons to learn from the Finnish school system.

10:37

Back at my dorms. Time to take that shower I postponed, shave, get fresh, put on some clean clothes, and have a piece of candy since my teeth were better than they were.

11:32

All done. Hey nice, lunch just opened, and I’m feeling fresh as pie.

What happens next?

Tim
The thing about making such a mess is that the god damn sticky beanbag beans get everywhere. I could clean up 99% of them easily, but the remaining 1% is going to take a fucking cultural revolution to clean up. I know that in 7 years I’m probably going to find one of those damn beans inside my shower head or something, and ill have to clean that single one up. It will never end. Its like glitter, but beanier.

My mistake was that I didn’t watch a YouTube video on how to pour beans correctly.

That’s why I…

Spilled the beans.

Thor:
I’m reminded that my dentist appointment took less than 15 minutes and that I spent more time standing around waiting on buses than actually spending time on them. There’s more to my day to analyze, in fact there’s going to be more to analyze as it isn’t over yet, but this was the entertaining part that was relevant to the story-sharing aspect of this post. The other stuff is more related to positively and social relations and emotional outlets in the form of a hidden little nugget of text that you won’t get to see for probably over a year.

These adventures are hard for me. They’re demanding on my social everything, and I’m reminded exactly why I feel so good living at a school at that’s pretty walled-off from most of society, set at the bottom of a hill that has some absolutely gorgeous views out over some northern landscapes. It’s a place where I am proud to house my heart, my home, and my family.

I wish you a really good day, and a good two weeks.