Posted 12:10 PM by Alfred

I just want to have a peaceful morning. That’s all I want to do. And then the crowd can fizzle down the avenue to the ocean break and see the surf and the sand and the water and the people and the sounds sights smells of ocean meeting terra firma. What the fiddler said on that roof was so correct in a lot of ways. He said, simone, you know that you can tear a man’s heart into shreds and then try to sew it back together for like 500 astromedallions.

Shit, it was the jurk storr again. They said that the shrimp and the pineapple are meeting with the gorilla squad on 59th street to discuss in great length why they are running out of you. hopefully they’ll get some kind of consensus before they’re all shithouse drunk and running around the rooms grabbing everyone’s underwear.

But I wouldn’t count on it. you never can these days. On anything. That’s what my uncle remus said. People come & people go but you’ve always got massive amounts of medication right around the corner, that was from my aunt evelyne, the one from 12th street, who wasn’t really my aunt, if you catch my drift, she was like, this crazy vampire lady and I’d bring her her blood from the local blood banks, like delivery joe mcgrow, the old skool version, and she’d be there all like blood shooting out of her eyes when I showed up, but it didn’t bother me that much ya know, I’m pretty impervious to gross out shit except barf so like then this big dog walks in and like pisses all over her, out there style, but not that bad, kind of funny, and then I woke up and walked to the bathroom and looked in the mirror and I didn’t have any eyes, except I could see perfectly clear, out of my belly button.

Which was strange, if I’m seeing out of my bellybutton then how am I being at eye level with the mirror? This was totally insane. I knew I had to investigate.

So I said goodbye to my aunt evelyne, who, all things considered, was having one of her better days, and then the milkman showed up, but I really don’t want to get into that. he’s this guy named homer wagner, and he runs this store, yet he still personally delivers 95% of the milk to the oldest customers, I mean, you have to have been doing beeswax with wagner for way many years, like at least 25, before you’d get the personal service. But you could get it grandfathered in, and I should know, cuz I used to work for him, and the younger clientele still have their parents’ accounts, and I would handle that shit, straight up & down, ya know take care of business with the sizzle like ‘fredocious mimicries but original. Except it was my alter identity of pat boone’s stepbrother.

Anyway, once you got it, the special treatment from any of wagner’s well versed associates, you couldn’t go back, it was the wagner way and she taught him some wackey hijinx on the downlo and they were laying in the back of his dodge rampage thinking about runway lights when he asked her what the meaning of life was and she said fuck it and crawled all over him and it was just right.

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