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Transparent to the naive eye, bare, naked to the world...evil lurks. |
| I tried to stop smoking cigarettes today. Well, let me clarify this a bit. I've tried to prepare myself to stop, starting today. I cheated a bit. Hell, I cheat on men, why not myself too. Haha. That was wrong. I swear that I wouldn't cheat on Twelve. What for? I'm willing to bet my last pair of undies that nobody could match what he puts in them. Anyhow, back to my topic, I actually tried to stop smoking. I lasted about three good minutes after taking the stress relieving vitamin, the repair pill and chewing the gum. Soon after that, a storm came. My normally quiet house turned into party land. My son, his girl and his two daughters came. Then my sister and her son. Then, to top that off, my cousin and her boyfriend. I was really trying but all of that damned noise and extra extra going on while I tried to relax while the urge pass just wasn't getting it. I decided that I'd try a while later, but this same night. That's when I asked my son's girl to leave me some of her cigarettes while she and my son went out to dinner, leaving behind my precious grandaughters. Yippy! Well, only if I wasn't trying to quit smoking at that precise moment, Yippee. She left me a few. I chit-chatted with my company over a few drinks. We laughed and talked and all of my cigarettes were gone. Ok, fine right. I started to talking to my girlfriend on the phone after the house was empty. We can always find something to discuss, good, bad, happy and/or sad. We just talk. She was preparing to go and see her ex and get her cooch chewed on a bit. How nice. I was kinda jealous since my own ex/current didn't come tonight and give me what he know I want and need and OH MY GOODNESS! Bring it to me baby. Whew, let me calm down. Anyhow, now what was I saying? Oh, yeah. My girlfriend was on her way out after we finished talking. That's when I realized that I wasn't going to make it through the rest of the night without cigarettes. Thank you Philip Marshall or Brown & Williamson for your deceptive tactics of hooking people on your deadly product, might I add. Thank you very furcking much. Well, I put my coat on and grabbed the keys then headed out of the door. I would have normally said 'bye' to my daughter but she was in the shower and the store is just about a block away anyhow. When I stepped out of the door, I could here quarrelling but thought nothing of it. That's what people do sometimes. Hell, it's been me a few times shouting to the top of my voice, in my younger days when I was passionate about someone or something enough to give a shout, let alone a furck. The voices were fairly close so naturally my head turned towards the noise. I wanted to ignore it immediately when I saw who it was. It was the pimp down the street parked long side the street yelling at a woman that looked like she was a coochie seller. I never cared less about those folk, especially after my landlord gave them props. He'd said over and again, "They don't give me problems. They pay their rent on time and sometimes in advance." Well, I really couldn't or didn't want to argue that since it's his business. It was up to me to move on to a better location. I recalled thinking that my landlord was just stupid and ghetto to think that it was all and only about him. What would make him think a community of working class people would want to see whores parading down the street showing nasty asses? Whatever. I'm moving soon anyhow. Well, tonight is a very good reason. That pimp that was yelling at his blonde whore decided that he didn't like what she said or how she said what she said and begun shooting at her. I'm not sure if she or he saw me standing there, scared out of my furcking mind or not. Maybe they're so ghetto that they could care less about a witness. Maybe he just felt that he could shoot me too, if needed. Who knose? I proceded to enter my daughter's car, nervously, at this point. I turned the opposite way from the commotion too. I made the block and headed for the gas station for those, now, much needed cigarettes. As I passed, the hooker had made it to the main street, that was only about fifty feet away from where she'd just gotten shot at. She tried to wave me down. I wonder if she knew that it was me or was she just trying to wave any damned body down? Did that shit even shake her or is she accustomed to that sorta drama? MY GOODNESS! |
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