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Showing posts from March, 2005
The world is just so far ahead of me; any chance at catching up, a pipe dream...
What he does is, he takes the seat next to the condom wrapper. Maybe—I don’t know—this is so I won’t sit next to him? So I take the seat on the other side of the aisle—the, the throughway—whatever you call it. And he sits there like he doesn’t even see the thing, the blue wrapper, lying there next to him. He’s goin’ on and on about—I don’t know—that new Battlestar Galactica series—no, the new one—with the insatiable horny/sexy Cylon chicks. He’s goin’, “Man, just the attention to detail alone —Man, this is an evolution in televised episodic science fiction…” And the former contents of the wrapper? Nowhere in sight. Unless he was sitting on the thing. I know I wasn’t. Yeah, I actually stood up a little and brushed my hand over my jeans — and this, let me tell you, was a true moment of concern. Because the notion of finding a gooey used Lifestyles stuck to your ass is not a pleasant one. It’s never happened to me—knock wood—but the notion alone signals my stomach to reject this mornin
The hair on my head, I’m not loosing. Least not yet. Knock wood. But the hair on my crotch, that stuff keeps dropping out; turning all my whitey-tighties into some kind of funky red-orange shag-rug. Not that I’m complaining. Better to loose it down town than up town, right? I mean, who really needs it down there, anyway? Now if only I could get my back hair to take a cue from my pubic hair…