(a gift to a friend)
By Mark David Blum, Esq.
It was the darkest most bitter cold of a deep winter night. The setting was perfect. A vast supply of music, couches, tables, chairs, blankets galore, and a warm barn. There was even an audience to share the experience. A Fabio emblazoned dime store soft chick porn novel could not have better set the archetype moment for a snort. Penthouse forums couldn’t paint a more perfect picture.
I will never forget the day the chalice snorted. Most definitely I will never ever lose the magic that overwhelmed me when that first snort touched me. It was more than just an aural pleasure. It was more than words can encapsulate. It smote me.
At some point, I am sure everybody at one time or another gets a snort. It was not what I was expecting. My heart started to beat a little bit faster. Blood was being pushed and opening up vessels everywhere. My brain was malfunctioning. All I could sense, all I could feel, all that I knew for those few moments was the snort. My chalice gave me a snort.
It is just me or does everybody remember the first time they experienced a snort? I hear that it doesn’t always end well for most people. From what I have been told, if that first snort can be the very best or something you wish you could just forget. I cant speak for others but let me make my record clear that I will never as long as I live forget that first snort … or the second or the third or the snorts that just keep coming and coming. I didn’t think it was possible to snort that many times in a row. I am still tingling all these hours later.
The chalice occupies the first place among sacred vessels, and by a figure of speech the material cup is often used as if it were synonymous with the Precious Blood itself. "The chalice of benediction, which we bless", writes St. Paul, "is it not the communion of the blood of Christ?" (1 Corinthians 10:16).
So I ask you; if in your hands you hold the most sacred of vessels, the very womb which holds therein that which is most precious and holy. This past evening, a chalice was placed in my hands. It was my duty to stand watch, to safeguard, to cocoon the chalice. Twas I who was tasked this eve to prevent any harm and allow in all that warms the blood and heart that beats heartily behind the twinkle.
Oh the chalice; how it glittered. It glowed brightly bringing joy and tears to all those who approached. The chalice was treasured by all, blessed by some, and chewed on by one. One sang of hills, another of noses, and so many melodies and harmonies filled the air and blanketed the chalice safe and full of laughter.
But then, and no thanks to me for I was momentarily distracted … then, the chalice snorted. I knew exactly what had just happened. For years, I had dreamt about it. Hours and hours in the dark early morning, I have read essays and fiction, skimmed through hours of videos, I had seen heard and mentally envisioned what a snort must be like. It was on one level scary and yet at the same time, exhilarating. More than half a century I have waited for a chalice to snort.
Suddenly, it happened. If you think sex with a partner is better than masturbation then you will agree that your first snort is like nothing you imagined or dreamt about. It was a serotonin and endorphin rush than dwarfed my most perverted fantasies. May the good Lord keep the chalice safe so that I may get lucky and experience just one more snort before I die.
I do consider myself lucky to have finally gotten a snort. In all my years, I never met anybody who snorts when they laugh. Tonight was my first – and I have known this person for a decade and never heard them snort. This treasured friend gave me a gift by showing themselves as themselves and right in the middle of laughing about something, she just snorted. And I don’t mean ‘snorted’. I mean “SNORTED”. She could have sucked up all the best Peruvian coke.
Me, I was engrossed in the music and not paying attention to the chalice and her playmate giggling and swapping spit behind me. Then the subject of wingnuts getting loose came up, and boom; snort. My neck still hurts from the whiplash of turning around so fast in the direction of the sound. I thought my chalice was in her death throes. What she was, was snorting endlessly through her nose.
And that is the tale of the Chalice that Snorted.