The Amazon Adventure

Dear diary! 08-23-2004, still dunno the time, windchill factor: 149 °F

I take the time by the forelock to tell you what happened the last hour while the others looking for something to eat. I hope they'll come back!...
Well, I've to make it short... if they see me writing... um... not good for me, not good for you at last!
Gawd, I'm lost in here... Shit. I could be home now in my cozy bed with Thim if he wouldn't go home to his biatch!... Ow, why he didn't break up with his chick yet?! YES, I'm jealous!! Whatever, I'll manage it sooner or later...
The night was horrible but the morning was even worse. I wake up with a strange feeling on my cheek. There was something... heavy and hairy and... it was vibrating, can't describe it.
Anyways... it turned out that a HUGE DISGUSTING TARANTULA sat on my cheek!!1!eleven!1
EW, SO FCKIN UGLY!!... Unfortunately Thim jumped up shrieking like a gurl and he actually ran two or five times around the tree before he calmed down finally... Mari rescued me at last and – I should know it! - that man get along with this DISGUSTING critter!!
If there's any way out I hope we'll find it soon :/

Love, Twiggy

***

The bleary-eyed men – except Twiggy of course – were searching for some 'breakfast' and no one less than Ginger was their lifesaver. He actually guided the others through the wood proudly – but nobody appreciated it at all.
Only Pogo went his own way, picking out randomly some drowsy insects from dewy leafs and stuffing himself with them. He even offered Twiggy to protect him from those 'horrible disgusting critters' by eating all of them within spitting distance but the feminine man rejected because of his spider trauma this morning. He wasn't in the mood to meet more spider's in the wood.
The odd tarantula was not dead or anything but at Marilyn's shoulder who took this purring animal into care. You could call it love at the first sight in fact but no one of the other men understood it... actually entitled.

“What - a tarantula you said?” , Manson was wide awake as he heard from his scared blond bassist what sat friendly on Twiggy's face.
“What? Black, hairy and as huge as a plate??” , Mr Antichrist-Superstar was asking with shining eyes when he sat up gloating.
Tim was shivering hard with tears in his eyes. Obviously his tough and manly side wasn't awake yet. Marilyn grabbed him by his shoulders and shook the poor man in excitement.
“That's mine now!” , Marilyn said happy and stood up to went over Twiggy who was paralyzed in shock. The bassist's old friend caught the huge tarantula from his cheek and sat it on his shoulder like it was a parrot and he the pirate.
Since then Marilyn and the tarantula were best friends.

After their scanty breakfast the band went on. As always Mr Manson pushed them forward. The air was horrible muggy like in a laundry. Twiggy had tinkered himself a fan which came to nothing at last. The palm leaves dropped down from the brittle twigs soon.
“What's going on there? Are you spent yet?!” , Marilyn spat when he noticed that the others were three meters behind him starring at the creepy object on his shoulder. The drummer wrinkled his nose disgustedly, he looked rather indignant.
Marilyn rolled his eyes and sighed.
“Oh, c'mon! That's truly because of this beautiful animal!? Gee, I'm among low cards here...”

Suddenly none other than Pogo jumped out of the bush with some stoner berries in his hands that he found screaming for joy in a crippled bush.
“Awwww! This is cute! Hehe. Can I keep it?”
He reached out for patting the tarantula but it fawned and hissed like a black cat. Pogo goggled at the spider and formed an 'O' with his lips while he retreated in surprise.
“Does it have a name?”
Lost in thought Manson plucked some leaves in passing.
“Actually... no.”
Pogo bounced at Marilyn's side when they went on. He lost some of his berries.
“COOL, can I give it a name??”
Manson eyeballed the excited man next to him contemptuously and squinted at the remaining stoner berries rather distrustful.
“Let me think about it............. NO!”
Pogo pouted.
“It's okay... Then I don't... it's OK...” He turned away sulky and mumbled something about his lovely berries.
About two or three minutes nobody said a word. You only could hear the wet rustling under their feet.
“Call it Dita” , Tim said smirking when he contemplated his dirty fingernails. He still tried to ignore Twiggy who still clinched his arm and stared at the spider horrified. But now the man in the gown burst out laughing like a hyena.
Manson spun round abrupt.
“What?! What did you say??!”
While passing he had bent a branch that blocked his way but now he stopped and glared daggers at the blonde, still holding the branch.
Tim smirked at Marilyn undaunted. Some flies were interested in the dried blood beneath his nose but he didn't care. He crossed his arms.
“That crawling thing on your shoulder... Call it Di-ta.”
Marilyn searched for words, he was in a rage but he can't express his anger this moment. So the singer spun round again and went on stomping.
“Oh... you!... Yoouuu....!”
Unfortunately he let go the branch so that it banged not into the Swede's face - he dodged nonchalantly and Twiggy bent forward giggling because his belly hurt so that the branch swept above his dreadhead – but right in the drummer's. Ginger yelled though the small group went on as if nothing happened. Marilyn and Tim were preoccupied with fobbing themselves and Twiggy still had a fit of laughter.

“I'll call it Erin.”
Tim's jaw dropped. Marilyn squinted at him and smirked triumphantly.
Twiggy cackled louder, almost collapsing on the ground. Much to Ginger's regret because he knocked down.
The blonde hurried next to Marilyn and hissed.
“You- Come on, you can't call this detestable creature ... Erin! I mean - Manson, if you do this I'll cancel the contract!”
Manson shrugged.
You could hear an animalistic yelp whereupon Pogo swung over clinching a liane.
Tim sighed resigned and bemoaned his cigarettes even more mournful than the day before.

When Twiggy slowly calmed down, Ginger rubbed the bright red stripe on his cheek.
“Damn... I wish I could have a Happy Meal... or two...”
“Shut up, Ginge!”
“What?! I'm hungry!”
“Yeah, me too, dumbass!”
Silence filled the hot and humid atmosphere.
Ginger sensed that something was missing but it didn't cross his mind yet. He scratched his head.
Meanwhile Pogo weaseled through the wood pretended to be a big cat, scaring a chameleon what took a nap already. “BOO! Hehe!...”
“We could eat... Erin.” , Tim wrinkled his nose, regretting his spoken word's directly.
“Well, nooo... not my cutie!” Marilyn stroked his pet what began to purr immediately, nestling up against his neck. “You can hunt your own fatstock, Skold!” He glared daggers at the blonde.
“Mighty fine!” , Tim spat and turned to look at Ginger when he had a brainstorm suddenly.
“Frankl- um, Kenny” , he smirked cheesy , “Would you fix me up with some fruit or anything else, too?”
Ginger goggled at Tim uncomprehendingly 'cause he was lost in thought. The Swede gestured picking fruit. The drummer rolled his eyes and nodded finally. At least his growling stomach would also benefit from this.
“Fine, then hit the road!”
When Ginger shambled into the wood grumbling Pogo spurted through the brushwood and grabbed a beautiful butterfly that hovered gracefully its way. In front of the others he stuffed the poor butterfly in his mouth.
“Well, I haf ma sufstanfial meal!” , He said muffling and grinning.

Manson hummed a song as he looked around dreamy. Ginger strove toward some eatable fruit for already an hour.
“Shit, how can you be so... lighthearted? I hate this jungle!” , Tim hissed and rammed his fists into the pockets of his muddy denim. “I only want to smoke... and being at home! Now!”
Pogo scurried next to his friend as if Tim pushed a button. The insane keyboardist held a little red berry right under Tim's nose.
“Here you go!”
The blonde turned away from it and pouted indignant.
“C'mon... it's my last one! You can have it 'cause you're my friend... Look, man. Can you see that? I mean those ghastly faces... Everybody here is in a snit but there's no reason if you'd eaten this funny berry! Everything's gonna be all right.”
Pogo grinned boyish. Tim bit his lip, trying to control himself.
“Very well then! Give it to me!” , The blonde man only wanted that Pogo stop talking rubbish.
So he swallowed the tiny fruit. Pogo tapped him on the shoulder. “Good boy.”
“Ew, disgusting!”
“Well... I guess you didn't chew it yet. I tell ya, that's fun, hehe! You have to try it next time.”
“I guess there won't be a next time!” , Tim grimaced as if he sank his teeth into a lemon.
Now Twiggy realized what Tim had done. He glared at him aghast.
“You don't really mean that!” , He shrieked and dragged him away from Pogo.
“Well, I do. There won't be-”
“That's not what I meant! It's no laughing matter, Tim Skold!!”
The keyboardist scurried quiet back into the brushwood.
“ARE YOU MAD?! Pogo isn't sensitive to ANY substances and YOU AREN'T POGO! Today of all days you have to try this crap and you won't find any antidote here!! I never thought you are such a jackass!”
Tim crossed his arms and shrugged when he hurried to catch up Marilyn.
“Sooner or later I'll go mad here anyway...”