Holidays and holy dazes. My brother, whom I used to describe as "a rowdier and funnier me, only with no regard for limits", sent me a text containing the words: st paul & broken bones. Upon searching, I found this...
and it was surprising. It's a whole lot of soul coming out of that nerdy white boy! That kind of dichotomy is extra pleasing.
It's like those times when you're suffering all by your lonesome at the back of the field after 40 miles or so of featureless dirt road and one or several of the dirty yahoos who've been ripping your legs off all day/week drift back to you and place a steadying hand on your back.
Close your eyes and give yourself over to the creepy sensation of a ghostly palm on your hip. Let that spiritual momentum be transmitted to you, like a gassy tailwind helping you along.
3 comments:
Great. I refuse to cede my soulness to any ethnic group. Either you is or you ain't.
Oh,and...
"It's like those times when you're suffering all by your lonesome at the back of the field after 40 miles or so of featureless dirt road and one or several of the dirty yahoos who've been ripping your legs off all day/week drift back to you and place a steadying hand on your back."
Nice work. I'd be proud to writ that.
Close your eyes and give yourself over to the creepy sensation of a ghostly palm on your hip. Let that spiritual momentum be transmitted to you, like a gassy tailwind helping you along.
Yes I. UNITY. As 1 stick together.
As for the dirty yahoos, it's all good feelings until they start trying to get you to hand over some of your load. That's when you know you're cooked. I tell them no thanks, I'll carry my own weight. My prideful fathead weighs me down, but it's MY prideful fathead.
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