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You keep looking at me like if you say the right words in the right order, quarters will start pouring out my ears. I’m flattered, but I’m also confused as hell. You’re in the wrong place. I got no cheap buffets. No complimentary shrimp cocktails. There isn’t a sequence of buttons you can push that will reset my circuitry. I am a broken robot. I am out of quarters. I’m running out of patience. And I’m covered in sticky circles.
The least you could do is use a coaster.
You think I’m holding something back. Like I’ve got some secret ace stashed in my asshole. Son, let me be the first to list my shortcomings. Actually, that would take too long. Let me list my strengths. Wait. That’s depressing. Let’s talk about tacos. Not those bullshit ones you put your syrup salsa on; I mean real goddamn tacos from a truck or a stand. Simple. Corn tortillas. No crunch. Some onion, cilantro, Tapatio … shit, I’m getting hungry.
Let’s talk about egrets. I’ve had a few. They’re feisty birds. I don’t know where the hell Sinatra got his from. Mine shit all over the furniture and make my life a complicated misery. I get it. They get pissed with no sand to sink their beaks into. It’s not my fault that I live in an apartment and sometimes buy exotic animals on the dark web after the Ambien kicks in, but before I go to sleep. Is it? Just following doctor orders.
Fuck egrets. Let’s talk about something else. Let’s talk about fucking egrets. That’s some messed up shit right there. I don’t even know how you’d go about doing it, let alone why. Why’d you even have to take us there? Seriously. Life is confusing enough.
You keep kissing my ass and hoping; I see it. I should do the honest thing and tell you that you’re shooting your boots full of holes. I never did like having my ass kissed. I hate it. It’s hurting your cause. I’d rather you be critical. I’m not made out of glass. I’m made out of flesh and bones and gloop and a brain that doesn’t like falsehoods. Even if they’re flattering. If you’re going to kiss my ass, you need to do it subtly. I can get down with subtle ass kissing. And subtle hypocrisy.
You. You, you, you. Me. Me, me, me. Doe a deer. A female deer. Far a long, long way to run. Old movies, I torment my children with. But, hell, they seem to think it’s fun.
Why did they dress like that? Why does the phone look like that? Dadda, what’s a Nazi? Oh, shit. Let’s go play Barbie. That’s a different kind of mind-fuck, but Barbie wasn’t down with genocide. Unless there’s a ‘Genocide Barbie’ now – I know they’re diversifying. Gotta represent everyone. And Trump is president. Which somehow allowed all the knuckle-dragging wannabe Nazi idiots to come out into the open instead of cowering in their parents’ basements where they belong.
You think I’m wrong. You have that right. But I don’t think you’re right. Ain’t it interesting?
I’d like to be a hermit crab.
Actually, I’d like to be a hermit crab in Doc’s lab on Cannery Row. That way I could keep abreast of the goings on and fascinate drunks and geniuses and saints and whores all at the same time. On Steinbeck’s dime.
Where are we going to? What are we running from? Why’d we do so many drugs? Because they were fucking fun! I don’t understand why so few people say that. Not that I think everyone should do drugs, but you always hear: I was experimenting. I was lost. I was depressed. Never: what do you mean why? That shit was a blast!
It stops being a blast eventually, but, then again, doesn’t everything?
I’ve got too much white privilege to speak with any authority on blackness, but I know why the engraged bird sings. Because he doesn’t know how to open the cages and set all the other birds free. And that’s a tough one for anyone with a soul and some simple decency to swallow. Or swift. Or hawk for that matter.
I’m not selling any wares. Anywhere. I’m trying, but no one’s buying.
Step right up and lay your money down. Before I figure out how to steal your identity and take it.
#2minutesgo Tweet it! Share it! Shout it from the top of the shack you live in! I will be out most of the day, but I'll be back...#2minutesgo Tweet it! Share it! Shout it from the top of the shack you live in! I will be out most of the day, but I'll be back...