Tuesday, March 26, 2013

No Paper

This is at the Puerto Rican Fag's House

The closest to sex I've gotten in a while is having a Puerto Rican Gordita salesman grab my chest hair through the window of my van yesterday...."Pelo rico" I think he said as felt me up.
"Perdon," I said as I buttoned my shirt.
Why can gay men uninhibitedly grab straight men? Any gay men out there explain this casual flirtation? Is he testing me to see if I'm into him?

Me and Cow Milk Blues are recording our duet album so it's hard to avoid the gay guy who lurks in the corner. A year ago I might have thought this was progress but my worldview is such that I know where I'm headed and I know who is coming along for the ride. Dive bar bathrooms are reminders of a fork in the road where broken signs pointed toward out of tune guitars on pawn store shelves or to custom inlay truss rod covers for my guitar. I'm spoiled by good fortune lately including my Evel Knievil landing when the moped went from 25 mph to Flat-On-My-Ass in two seconds. I managed to survive but the video didn't. Then I got gravy maintenance work at the ranch near Mexico...the garage paid me for fixing the carbs on that triumph, and my hydro-fracturing job is so close I can taste the California elite guitar I want. Two paychecks...that's all I need.

Even the rats in the walls are on their last breath as the poison I've been feeding them for a week has them dying for a drink of cool water but I've boarded up all the ways into my bathroom. I'm done with that vermin. They shit everywhere. A hog was hit on the highway and in two days about a dozen buzzards ate it down to the spine. Did you know Japan bought more adult diapers than baby diapers last year? Thank Al Gore for that stat and thank a sensible approach to fucking their women for the lack of fewer kids...not that it matters in the 10 billion person world we are headed for. Are there any Japanese women who want me to knock them up just to even the score? Sorry if that sounds blunt but I doubt my charm will work after the Lanny Barby song. You'd think a girl might grab my chest hair once in a while...but no. The company I keep isn't the bottom of the barrel but we can see them from the bathroom window.
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