For Irony's Sake

[Bewlay Brother]

I got a wet one™ to wash away the blood from my mustache. From the glove compartment. My ex-wife put a packet of wet ones™ there during the 90s, she insisted we still needed them even though we sadly no longer had snot-nosed children. She

Waited for this day. This day when her foresight would guide us like a star, when I'd desperately need a wet one™ and BOOM, right there it'd pulsate in the windshield-magnified sun! That day passed a long time ago. I've used so many wet ones™ over the years, but I throw out the whole pack each time and replace it so she'll never know. Sounds so spiteful, I know, but it was playful when it started.

For God's sake though, where would I be without wet ones™? All it takes is one spilt cup of Joe and I've got sticky fingers for the 80 mile commute to work. There is no worse feeling than sticky fingers. I'd wash my hands in blood if it meant they'd no longer be sticky. I'd wash our marriage in blood too. (in case the metaphor wasn't obvious enough)

The blood keeps pouring to near sitcom levels of overkill. Picture the assembly line scene from one of the early I Love Lucy episodes, but with a nosebleed instead. Well, more than just my nose is bleeding. When I hit that tree, the

Thud lasted five minutes. I swear, our brain chemistry dictates time. It's so obvious. Time never runs out, but brains do all the time. So do Wet Ones™, and there goes the last one. I must say, they make a rather aesthetically-pleasing pile of blood-soaked tissues. I mean, the only point of comparison I have is the pile that'd fester at the bottom of the cheap tin trash can in the household bathroom during *that time of the month* growing up with five sisters and a mother. I used to joke with my brother that on my deathbed I'd tell her the truth about my secret affair with the Wet Ones™. But now this is my deathbed and instead of an ornate pillow I have a worthless pile of blood-laminated Wet Ones™, pulsating in the windshield-magnified sun as majestic proof that sometimes things really do work out perfectly.

[AuntShecky]

Ewwwww.
Quite a compelling piece, artfully done, but still
ewwwwww.

Your squeamish auntie

PS welcome back

[Bewlay Brother]

Ewwwww.
Quite a compelling piece, artfully done, but still
ewwwwww.

Your squeamish auntie

PS welcome back

Thank you. Ewww is one of my favorite things to hear, could you possibly elaborate on what brought the ewwfactor?

[AuntShecky]

Thank you. Ewww is one of my favorite things to hear, could you possibly elaborate on what brought the ewwfactor?

Not the name-brand wipes which may be one of the best inventions since the wheel, but the graphic way in the prose poem describes what they are soaked with. (Also the allusion to what was in the bathroom waste basket was especially ewwwww-provoking.)

Look up "laminated" --I'm not certain an object can be "blood-laminated." Doesn't the word usually refer to a composite made of layered sheets, like plywood, or a plastic covering, such as might be protecting your driver's license?



Now that I've re-read this, I'm not entirely sure this is a case of irony, which your title apparently intends. Irony in the original Greek means "pretense toward the lesser"; sometimes the word "ironic" can mean sarcastic, saying the opposite of what is meant. That the speaker's bathroom prediction comes tragically true is not ironic, but rather fulfills the initial notion or brings it full-circle.

[Bewlay Brother]

Not the name-brand wipes which may be one of the best inventions since the wheel, but the graphic way in the prose poem describes what they are soaked with. (Also the allusion to what was in the bathroom waste basket was especially ewwwww-provoking.)

Look up "laminated" --I'm not certain an object can be "blood-laminated." Doesn't the word usually refer to a composite made of layered sheets, like plywood, or a plastic covering, such as might be protecting your driver's license?



Now that I've re-read this, I'm not entirely sure this is a case of irony, which your title apparently intends. Irony in the original Greek means "pretense toward the lesser"; sometimes the word "ironic" can mean sarcastic, saying the opposite of what is meant. That the speaker's bathroom prediction comes tragically true is not ironic, but rather fulfills the initial notion or brings it full-circle.



I said blood-laminated because in mind I picture Wet Ones™ as having a very subtle glossiness to them as a result of the cleaning liquid they're treated with. So when they're soaked with blood, some of the glossiness shines through creating an illusion of the blood appearing laminated. Lamination might technically only apply to plastic coating, but I usually focus more on the connotation of words rather than necessarily their dictionary definition.

And the irony I was referring to was that after all this time that his ex-wife was planning for Wet Ones™ to save the day, when that day finally comes there weren't enough to stop the bleeding. He was happy things worked out so perfectly because it meant if his ex-wife saw the scene of the accident, she'd see that the Wet Ones™ ended up being worthless, so the dead narrator would get the last laugh. (Even though the Wet Ones™ probably have no significance whatsoever to the ex-wife.) But I'll probably change the title to something more provocative and relevant.

Thank you again and I get a headache sometimes when thinking of convoluted circumstances and trying to identify whether they're truly irony or not, mainly because the word is misused so often. Often it is used as a synonym for hypocritical. (A Christian person sinning being called "ironic" sometimes, even though it's neither ironic or hypocritical, as nowhere in the Christian belief does it state that followers are expected to never sin, in fact, that's the central theme of the entire belief system. Sorry, off course there, that's just a pet peeve of mine surfacing.)

[Jerrybaldy]

Compelling and original. Just what this place doesn't know it needs.

[Bewlay Brother]

I changed the title to be more relevant and clear.