Thursday, April 20, 2006
So...do any of you bastards out there think I can take a punch? If I were a betting man I'd put a brand new FIFTY dollar bill down that I can. See this rugged complexion? Padding baby. The beard protects my chin, the glasses my eyes, the long hair adds a life saving layer over my ears, etc. This type of thing is something I have been planning for since I was twelve. That was the year Denny Myers beat me down on the playground like a fucking bitch. Yeah, I'll admit it, I went down like a sack of grain and wept like a girl, but times have changed since then and I changed along with them. I've cut the girlish fat off my body and along with it the loser mentality that clung to it like the stink following a log of shit. I've stripped it down to the bone homes. Some say I look like I did a five year stretch for molestation and came out better for it. I take that as a compliment. Being a man of iron means the rain may rust my surface but the integrity of my insides will never be compromised. So go ahead if you're feeling frisky, take your best shot. I'm ready for it. Are you?
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Okay, confession time. I need to get this off my chest as it’s weighing me down, making it hard to breathe. That might be the smokes too, but who knows? Most likely the guilt I guess. The thing I want to tell you is that I’m a thief. I have been employed as such most of my life, whether I was gainfully employed at a real ‘job’ or not. Even when I’m walking home with a paycheck, earned legitimately in my pocket, I am likely to smash the padlock off a bicycle and wheel myself the rest of the way rather than hoof it. Stealing just comes naturally to me and I feel it has been something I’ve excelled at. I took the small amount of natural thieving talent that I had and reworked it into a real profession. Snatch the purse from an old woman on a bus, snag the backpack from some visiting tourist while he’s asking directions, these things seem to be simple tricks on the surface but they are anything but. You know any old women? See how tight they are with their money and you know they don’t take their hands off their purse too easy. A great trick I learned to handle that is after I squeeze in next to them on a seat I let one go, you know, blow a big juicy fart that just reeks up the whole place. People get embarrassed when that happens, including the ones that didn’t do it and they just keep their eyes away, whether to laugh or cover their noses. When those old crotches cover their mouth with a hankie that’s when I snag that old pleather handbag, neat as you please. I don’t do this type of thing because I’m a lowlife or a cretin as you might think. It’s just what I do. It’s my ‘natural talent,’ if you will. You don’t blame a ball player for being good at catching pop flies do you? I didn’t think so. But you walk out to the driveway and see your 1992 Honda Civic has gone missing and you curse me like I used your child’s soft pink face for a snot rag. I am not a bad man, I simply have a mustache and a penchant for taking things that didn’t start out belonging to me. Actually, I’m a pretty fun guy when you get to know me, just don’t leave your wallet sitting out on your coffee table when I come over. That might just be too much for a guy like me to withstand.