Hi Blog. How are you? Long time no see. Did you get laid last night? I didn't. I was too drunk to spread my legs. It was fun!

Hey Blog, if someone in a chef's hat walked up to you at a train station while you were smoking Cigarillos and waiting for the C Train and offered you a free mini box of cereal...would you take it? I would. I would ask for all of the free cereal he had and then I would open a free cereal store where I force the chef's hat guy to supply it endlessly and i would never run out of inventory. Lots of free cereal that I charge money for = endless rate of return = profits! = early retirement for me! Hey Blog, I hope this happens to me one day so I can realize my dream.

Yo, Blog. I spent 60 bucks at the track last night and didn't win one bet. But what i DID win, was lots of $2 beers, some popcorn, good conversation and a HANGOVER! Whoopee!

Blog, I'm sorry for the neglect. I've lost my spirit it seems. Maybe it will come back to me on this three day weekend. I will look for it. It might be in my closet...it's messy.

Now please excuse me while I go fight teen pregnancy.

Regards,
xtx

It's hot outside. I don't know how hot exactly because I'm not in my car. My car has one of those temperature gauges on the dash that will tell you how hot or cold it is outside. My house doesn't have one of those. Guess I need to buy one. They are called 'thermometers'. I'm guessing it's about 85-90 degrees or so.

I spent the morning cleaning house, watching a movie and listening to the neighbors play on a giant, inflatable, water slide dealie. It's a giant red...thing....like bouncey-house, but more of a slide. It sticks up about 5 feet higher than my back fence which means it's probably about 12 feet tall or so. At first I thought they must've rented the thing, but today is the second day I've seen them bust it out, so I guess they bought it.

It has a sprinkler sprayer at the top that is attached to a hose that I'm guessing attaches to some sort of hose at the base of it. The sprayer part is attached to the top of the slider thing with velcro. I could hear it every time one of the people ripped it off to good naturedly spray someone down below. Lots of laughter and squealing. They were having fun.

It sounded a lot like summer.

I thought it would be funny if I started blasting my Dr. Dre, "Chronic" cd really loud, but decided that wouldn't be very neighborly.

But now that i really think about it, I would like to listen to The Chronic right now. (Chronic means pot fyi)

I feel so gangsta when I listen to my old Dr. Dre album. Album. It was a cd actually. Not an album. CD. "Things just aint the same fer gangsters.."

Anyway.

After I was done with the work part of the day, i actually had nothing more productive to do. It was strange. I walked from room to room in my house with a blank expression. Inside, my thoughts were, "No. I really can't think of anything else I need to do right now." It was like a brand new concept. Like, discovering omlette making monkeys. At first you are like, "Really? Monkey's who can make omlettes?" and then you go, "Well shit, let's give 'em some eggs and a fryin' pan, sit back and wait a spell..."

So that's what I did. Opened my 'summer drawer', pulled out a bikini, sprayed sunblock all over me like I was a stucco'd house waiting fer paint, and laid out in the backyared with a Newscastle and "Pillars of the Earth".

Guilt free with all my chores behind me, the respite still tasted like sin. As I lie there, sweat pooled up in the bottoms of the frames of my sunglasses. The neighbors' laughing and chatter faded away as Follet's "Pillars" began to suck me into its narrative.

Two beers and four chapters later, I have a sweet buzz, and a quiet sunburn.

I'm going to have another beer, make some dinner, watch "Raiders of the Lost Ark" and take a shower before going to be and having 'sexy time'.

Today is a good day.

You're holding the legs and i'm fucking her.

or, I'M holding the legs and you are fucking her.

Either which way, it's a win win.

there is fucking an dthert is leg holding

i would play with her tits if i was only leg holding.

tomorrow, i will go to the movies and iu wil =l play the 'popcorn trick' on the girl who is with me. That means i will cut a hole in the bottomofo the popcorn bucket and stick myh hard dick in there so she will grab it when the popcorn level grows low.

yeah, right.

who brings sicsooors with them to a ovie theatre to gcut a perfetct hold i n the bottom of a bucket and howwho stickes ther dick in there all grinding against the dry popcorn.

sounds like a myth.

urban legend

myth busters hould pull one out on this

who knws, i am drunjk right now.

sue me

if anyone ever stuck their dick ni a popcron bucket hoping for a pull and a rub, call me. or email me at notimetosayit@gmail.com. i bet you are a liar


scapegoat

Where have I been?

I've been shaving myself....down there. Then carving out jack o lantern faces into my pubis. It's scary when you light the candle and turn down the lights. wooooooooo... (ghost voice)

I've been reading To Kill a Mockingbird. Out loud. To a hand held microphone. Just so i can hear myself legitimately say the N word. Lots of N words. It feels so wrong, but oh so right in the context of which it is written. I would like to take To Kill a Mockinbird out on a date, and buy it jewelry.

I've been standing still in front of firing squads, blindfolded. Hands at my sides. Cigarette between my lips. Piss running down my legs.

I've been playing video games for money. No, sport. No, for food. I will play video games for food. I am homeless. There is a man who lets me blow him for a warm mattress on the floor, a burnt biscuit and all the Xbox I can play. His name is George the Molester.

I've been going to the church of scientology and teaching them about Jesus.

I've been watching every Radiohead video on YouTube.

I've been eating things with eggs in them.

I've been scheduling the nights I will get drunk.

I've been pissed off at the phone ringing.

I've been making meals for strangers, and then not letting them eat them until we become friends.

I've been using the word, "legit" to emphasize things that are cool, in order to appear 'hip' and 'youthful'.

I've been travelling cross country in a car shaped like a tit. It's not very aerodynamic and it's cumbersome, but it is a really huge tit on wheels and that is legit.

I've been scared to open the New Post window.

I've been figuring out I do not know what I want to be when i grow up.

I've been waxing Poetic. 'Waxing' being masturbating, and 'Poetic' being my horse.

I've been eating popcorn while watching movies that haven't been made yet. So far, they all suck balls.

I've been listening to my life go by. It sounds a lot like the Lakers losing the playoffs while i create crumbs on my chest and thighs by chewing with my mouth open and an old man named Reggie snoring.

I've been waiting for a long time for a picture of him, topless, standing on a tank holding a machine gun or rifle.

He says I might get it for my birthday, but first he has to get a tan.

Seis De Mayo

I forgot about cinco de mayo so I just finished celebrating seis de mayo.

but instead of a pinata, we filled up a 6 year old with 12 gallons of Patron, tied him up in a cherry tree, and beat him with bats until he sprung a leak, whereupon we held out goblets we had decorated with skulls and scorpions and doodles of mary magdelene, and let them fill until overflowing.

then we drank until the goblets were emptied and the six year old was deflated and wet like a used Magnum.

then we ate tacos and french kissed one another and toasted, "To Mexico and Freedom!"

I bought a lot of things at the grocery store.

One of the things I bought was a pack of afro picks.

My checker girl and my bagger guy were both black.

The bagger boy held up my pack of afro picks and said, to the checker girl, "Afro picks?"

And as if I was invisible, the checker girl replied, "They for her son..."

I silently wondered a couple of things: 1. How does she know if I have a son? 2. If I did have a son, how does she know he has an afro? 3. Why are you discussing my purchases?

Then the checker guy addresses me, "Picks?" he asks, holding up the package as if maybe I made a mistake.

I said, "Yeah." but wanted to offer more in order to quell his curiosity...but couldn't think of exactly what to say.

"They for your son?" the checker girl asks me. Again, assuming I have offspring, let alone a son, let alone a son with an afro, let alone that I'm white with a white son that might have an afro.

Maybe she thinks I'm married to a black guy, in which case she could've assumed it was for him.

"No...my son doesn't have much hair." I say, "They're for me."

"For you?" she asks, surprised, with a quick glance at my very straight brown hair.

"Yeah, they're my favorite kind of comb."

Another quizzical expression.

"It's a long story..." I say....not wanting to get into an entire conversation of my 80's permed hair history.

She goes back to checking, but I can tell she - and the bagger - are both puzzled and amused at my hair implement purchase.

I pay for everything, and the bag boy asks if I need help out.

"No." I say, grabbing my cart and starting to push.

"It okay if I borrow your pick?" he asks with a teasing grin.

Pushing my cart forward, I glance back and respond with a smile, "Anytime."

I just figured out why they only use black people for toothpaste ads. You'd think it would be obvious, but i have a tendency to be slow in some areas.


Black folks have darker skin, thereby rendering their teeth whiter against their dark flesh.


So simple and brilliant.


I bought some Crest Night Repair toothpaste or something to that effect...a month ago. It was the most disgusting toothpaste ever. It was a gritty white paste. I think it was made with ground chalk. It was on sale so I bought it. It said something about night repair. or Night skills. or night cleanser. something or other. too bad I don't brush my teeth before going to bed and only brush them in the morning. (xtx fun fact #234).


Everyday I wondered what using night repair toothpaste in the morning, instead of at night, would do to my teeth. I didn't notice anything. But i wondered about it every day and even contemplated starting to brush my teeth before going to bed in order to get the full effect of the night repair toothpaste. but i didn't. i continued to use it in the morning and just figured it would 'repair' my teeth during the day, because how can toothpaste tell what time it is?


i fooled it.


if i was black, my teeth would look so good right now.





last week, i visited the vagina doctor. it had been a few years since i went so it was about time i got it checked out.


i was nervous because i hate it so much. getting completely naked and letting a perfect stranger look into your most private of places with a headlamp and rubber gloves like a coalminer.


I manned up and went...despite my discomfort. I made sure the spitshine my vagina first, and give it a proper shaving so it looked decent for the event. I didn't want the doctor to frown upon an unkempt vagina. A engine-less Ford pickup truck up on cinderblocks, and empty Budweiser cans hidden in the uncut , ankle-high lawn like forgotten Easter eggs of a vagina...nope not me.


The doctor came into the room while i was sitting up on the examination table 'covered' in a paper vest (opening in front) with a paper drape over my nether regions. So awkward.


The doctor looked like Dr. Ruth which helped to calm me. Old and small with a quiet, reassuring voice. She asked me to lay back so she could examine my breasts.


She apologized for her cold hands when she did my breast exam. I wanted to reply, 'that's okay, they feel good' but figured that was a strange response. the truth was the room seemed 20 degrees hotter than a room should be...probably because of my nervousness, and her hands felt like a cool breeze.


The vaginal examination went quicker than I felt it ever had in the past...which was awesome. then she put some goop on her fingers and informed me she was going to do a pelvic exam, which is when the stick fingers in your vagina and press on your lower abdomen and ask you if you feel any tenderness. good times.


upon withdrawing, she asked if i 'wanted a rectal', since it had been a while since my last dr's appt, and all pride extinguished at this point, i said,'knock yourself out' and then she stuck a fingertip into my asshole.


All of this for a $10 copay. I'm going back next week.

I walked across the street to load up the car. It was parked in front of the new neighbors' house who I had only met once since they moved in…about six months ago.

As my feet hit the curb, I realized the mom neighbor was out on her grass pushing her 2 year old son around on a little motorized car. The car was plastic and faded and made a sound like a broken blender full of gravel. The kid had a blue pacifier in his mouth and bed head.

She was pushing him straight at me.

I opened the door of the truck, threw some crap inside and waited to be greeted.

The mom stopped pushing at the edge of the grass abruptly ending the broken blender sound. Unusually hot for 8:30 am, the sun’s heat seemed to magnify even more in the sudden silence.

I wanted to say something friendly and casual to the kid/mom duo, having forgotten their names from our first introduction half a year prior, but nothing was coming to mind. Usually quick on my feet at mindless banter, I was stymied. Perhaps the heat was getting to me.

Uncomfortable in the silence and the looks of the expectant faces of mother/son who had traveled the few meters across their lawn to greet me, I blurted out, “Hey boy….” in a sort of southern drawl oddly reminiscent of Foghorn Leghorn.

I mentally kicked myself. Hey boy? Really? You don’t speak to these people in months, and when you finally do, you sound like some sort of white plantation owner greeting a black sharecropper.

Thank God they’re not black… I think…

They don’t seem to mind my greeting however, and greet me back…the mother speaking to me through her child…as I was to her. Using the kids as some sort of transmission device, or ventriloquist dummy.

“Givin’ your mom a workout this morning, are you?”

“Well, daddy needs to get a new battery so I can drive it myself…”

“Make sure to keep it under the speed limit…wouldn’t want you getting pulled over…”

“Looks like you’re heading out”

“Yup. Just trying to get a jumpstart on the day…looks like it’s going to be a hot one! You should tell your mom you want to play in the sprinklers later.”

“Oh, we might just do that! After we take a bath!”

“Okay..well have fun…don’t wear your mom out with that thing!”

“I won’t!”

We said our quick goodbyes, both seemingly satisfied with the long overdue, albeit short, neighborly exchange. The awkward Foghorn Leghorn greeting I gave earlier was still not sitting well with me, but hopefully had gotten ‘glossed over’ over during the course of the chat and forgotten.

Later that day I washed my dog in the backyard with the garden hose, a scrub brush and some liquid soap. I called her "good girl" a lot and didn't mind when she shook several times trying free her coat of the cold water.

When it was all over with, I gave her a biscuit.