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July 3, 2005
Peel Sessions
Did not register an awareness of my degreed attachment to the by-now-grimer’d-up-and-made-mucky-from-mad-marathon-molotov-cocktailing, until immediacy turned the corner on the block in that way she does—almost exactly like a schedule-harried split-toe sloth with a signature lumin’-it swagger, always running late and damn near usually arriving too soon—and I remarked to myself that there I was with a dick (mine, shriveled as if under the spell of a green-faced, wart-wearing witch) in one hand and a crack pipe in the other hand, notably my right hand (making the activity at, uhum, hand—overdue urination—clumsier and more fruaght with negative potential than nature intended. Then my eye was caught by another crossing of nature’s impeccable intentions: arc’ed before me and terminating in a pot of gold was a tangerine stream contemplating the border of a butterscotch pudding made neony by any imprudent utilization of food (-grade) coloring (i.e. dye). That’s a color—a taint, I dare say—that everybody knows…only too well! And here I was the perp, pipe in red hand. And then I pondered the plus: tangerines are easy to peel, and I coud sure use a good peeling right about now. Right after I wax off the apple of my eye.
Posted by peligrito at July 3, 2005 4:28 PM
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