I’ll work. I’ll use Microsoft Office to do what a rich guy tells me to do. Leave late. I’ll go to the Vons and see what’s on sale. Maybe a pork chop. Maybe some Brussels sprouts. I need milk. I’ll go home instead of the gym because I’m out of dress shirts. Need to do laundry. On the drive talk to my AA sponsee. Tell him what my AA sponsor said to say which is about the definition of insanity. Get home cook the pork chop put the clothes in the wash do deadlifts with the barbell I bought. Take the shirts out of the washer and hang them to drip dry. Put the underwear and socks and towels in the dryer. Go to an AA meeting. Get my clothes out of the dryer. I will not fold them. She will not text me. I will not open the door and it’s her.
Archive | Women RSS feed for this section
Belinda
6 JulAre you surprised I’m here, said Belinda. Mexican girls don’t date white boys. Au contraire, he said, I’ve had every one in town but you. Not the real ones, she said. I bet their parents spoke English.
She’d fucked her tattoo artist for three years. He was 44, married, someone snitched to the wife who then called Belinda’s mother. I want you to know your daughter’s a whore, she said. I’m going to tell your whole family. I’m going to go around your neighborhood, tell everybody. She did.
The tattoo artist came in her every time. She thought she couldn’t get pregnant. He said he’d meet her when she got the abortion. He posted on Instagram from a bar instead. He had eight other women he was sleeping with. The wife still doesn’t know.
When she finished the story he went to move her hair to kiss her. And she said: not on the first date.
Ain’t Never Gonna Ever Love Again
13 MayShe’ll never talk to me again. She drank too much. She broke my shit. She fucked the bartender from Ostrich Farm her second night staying with me. She made men pay for everything– rent food plane fare. I would have had to pay for her ticket to come visit me again. She needed it to feel pretty. But she was perfect. Continue reading
Vacation Diary: The Vortex
28 Mar
Can’t look at my Sedona pics without that bad acid feeling. Haunted house feeling. People are right. There’s energy there. It’s evil. There was a massacre, something. I hiked to one of the attractions, a giant sinkhole. Hundred ton rocks had plummeted into the bowels of the Earth. I felt like an antenna picking up a TV station broadcast by Pennywise. Feel it again now talking about it. Last night before I slept. I carried it with me.
Continue reading
Buy The Pussy
