Bro’s before ho*’s

bro's before h**sThere is an ipod that follows me around. I didn’t buy it, I don’t want it, but It’s mine and I own it completely. It doesn’t have the apple trademark, but comes with plenty of space. It can hold songs, pictures, videos, memories. It even has storage for smells, tastes, textures, dreams, languages and dates, however, I do not rely on it as a calendar. For reasons (pot) I cannot fully understand it stores numbers and dates like coins in a pocket with a hole. There are also three main drawbacks. 1, you cannot plug it into anything. 2, it doesn’t come with an instruction booklet. 3, You cannot turn it off.

Ever.     

The fun part is Continue reading Bro’s before ho*’s

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In my swimming pool

white peopleThe lifeguard watches me swim. He watches me saunter the poolroom wearing flip-flops, trunks, swim cap, and goggles. He smiles. I smile. I wonder what he thinks of my stretching. It’s light and aerobic and I don’t get into heavy positions and don’t spend more than 16 seconds on each leg. I’m hardly even aware he’s watching. To be honest, he might not be watching. He might be on the phone as I’ve sometimes watched him. What phone call is so important? What incoming message is so pressing it needs to be answered by a lifeguard on duty?  I’ve never heard him say the word, “Mom,” so it’s unlikely he’s speaking with her. Which could mean he doesn’t find her important. I once heard him say, ‘It’s not fair,’ rubbing the top of his forehead with his thumb, then look at his thumb to see what he wiped off, then wipe that off on his trunks. Which could mean he sweats when life gets rough. Just the other day he had this hiking magazine open to some tragic story of an expedition into the Grand Canyon that went horribly awry. Why is he reading about unpleasant mishaps instead of surveying the pool for disaster? I’m beginning to believe he has a bleak outlook on life. My lifeguard is a manic depressant.  Continue reading In my swimming pool