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Name-dropping, after hours



I have bad teeth. Otherwise I am fine condition. I’m so optimistic in fact that I just bought new boots. Leaving the mall I did a survey and I instantly got FOUR FREE GIFTS: an almost new regulation-sized Barbie Princess Styling Head. Excellent toy for the average small girl.   The hair is still really clean and yellow though the deep black pores and skin tone can look weird under the porch bug lamp.  The other bonuses I got are: a NASCAR Needle-point Jewellery Kit. And also a new Troutmaster Microwave Extension Cord. So you can move your microwave anywhere in the kitchen, even to the porch windowsill for popcorn during the street fights.  Anyway, the boots are size 13 and pinch in the toe. I am actually a really narrow 14 so I may have to return the boots, though I may be able to stretch them out like last time with wedges and lots of steam. I won’t say what the 4th gift is because I need you to like me just for me.

But speaking of gifts, I heard a late night kick on my door and went to look and there you were, all tuckered out after the Logger pride festival. I went out to investigate and it was like God had opened your head like a Pez dispenser and filled it with whiskey, ecstasy, and racial slurs, then booted you from Heaven directly onto my porch. You were surrounded by a golden light or pee.  I really wanted to talk but you seemed dead. Dead or stuck-up, not sure which since you wouldn’t even react when I hot-waxed my phone number into your luxurious calf hair or poked you with my BBQ tongs. If you happen to see this blog and remember waking up on my porch this morning, please email me if you felt something too like I did.  Just tell me what your legs smell like now so I will know it was you and not some impostor. I spent at least 15 minutes rubbing 2-stoke oil on your now completely hairless calves and ankles (oops sorry about the hair, that was was my ex’s phone number). Oh shit I just gave it away. Anyway, the oil was only meant as a little waterproofing because I though it might get cold and I stood at your feet looking at you for so long the pee started to flow back towards you and I was out of Crisco.

Anyways, I have seen you once before. You were on the number 14 bus, eating Chef-Boy-Ar-Deeout of a can. You were using a fork. You got manners, that’s rare these days. You left the can on the floor in back and I spent the rest of the ride watching it roll around the bus until it finally got stuck under the brake pedal near the Goodman Mainline.