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00x450 Let me tell you what I remember. Gloria screaming like a bitch, “Daddy’s bike! Daddy’s bike!” Read the rest of this entry »

What a Vasectomy is Really Like

So I did it. Got the snip — the tiny tubes terminated — pinched off the old baby batter blaster — you get the picture. While it was (as every man who has ever had it done at least one year prior will tell you) a very simple and quick procedure, I would not ever in good conscience tell another man considering it that it was anything less than a miserable experience. Most guys (fellow blank shooters) I spoke with played it down and made it sound as easy and manly as getting a few stitches after a bar brawl — well I beg to differ.
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Promise Keeper | clearwater

Gloria was with me. I remembered her name and she was right there with me. It was like old times.
We were a couple, coupled. She was on my arm, titties pressed into my arm, titillating.
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candy flipping | Promise Keeper

I could hear Gloria talking on a cellphone. Candyflipping. That’s what she was saying we were doing. She was under the impression we had taken acid and Ecstasy. I didn’t care.
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Promise Keeper | back to school

The ride to the city college was dark and windy. I left the house at six, before Crystal got home.

I had attended the college briefly, thirty years earlier, so I knew my way around. There was plenty of time to kill, and I pedaled slowly, menacingly, hoping to provoke some dipshit security guard into a little excitement. I got some looks, but that’s all.

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Promise Keeper | bananarama

It was a relief to get back home. I looked at the clock and couldn’t believe what I saw. It was two fifteen. What a jam packed couple of hours. This was life the way I saw fit. Who really had time to work? Life on this planet was an irreplaceable commodity. What was a day worth? What were the past two hours worth?
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Promise Keeper | glory

I rode up to Starbucks. The reflection in the window startled me. I had forgotten about the costume I was wearing. This could explain some of the problems I was having today.
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The bike was my friend. I was wishing I had given it a bath. The world has most definitely gone mad. This is why I don’t get out much. Shit happens to me that cannot happen to most people.
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PROMISE KEEPER | stranglehold

The weed came in waves. I actually found myself wishing I’d smoked less. I found myself wondering if Crystal booby trapped the weed. I found myself plotting revenge. Ajax in the cocaine or some shit. I shook it off, grabbed my wallet and hit the streets.
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i don’t like it when people know about me | PROMISE KEEPER

Big Jim had spooked the shit out of me. Videos and speakers. Who would have thought he was getting this advanced? Then he’s calm as can be and turns me loose with a bike. I needed a shot of cognac. I put the bike in the garage. The weight bench still had white stains from the cocaine on it. I ran my finger over the stain and licked it. Twang! It changed my mind. No coke. Read the rest of this entry »

Quickies | medical marijuana

what was i thinking about? is it gone? an absence of words. and absence of neurosis. spelling takes all my thinking power. an absence of action. an absence of words. an absence of neurosis. i had a big idea and by the time i got logged on it was gone.

PROMISE KEEPER | …stealth…

Jessica Biel in STEALTH Movie

The day after Christmas, Crystal went to work. I don’t work. I don’t go to a job. It never works out. Read the rest of this entry »


It was just a trip to Del Taco. A sunny afternoon, a laid back California afternoon and I had a beautiful buzz. Sticky skunky weed and a little wine and a little of myself, you know sometimes I butt into my own buzz and I just start grooving. I still had the Cadillac you see and the top was down and the stereo was blasting Jethro Tull. Read the rest of this entry »


My lawyers’ name is Paul Paddy. He was one of Frankie’s nerd buddies back in high school. They started a club in high school, the King Tut Club. Fucking idiots. Anyway Paddy liked weed and one summer day we sat in my ’64 Saab and smoked weed at the San Clemente campground. We ate a dozen deviled eggs apiece. I respected him for that. He could hang and as we grew older he could put away booze and handle all the partying that I could. How he got through law school, or college for that matter, is beyond me.
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sliced eggplant

Image via Wikipedia

ok ok ok…i drank my way into diabetes…it’s official. now what? Read the rest of this entry »

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