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Showing posts from March, 2011

Bye, Bye, Bank Account

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It's tax time and I owe Uncle Sam six bucks. Every year I play with the numbers, trying to get what we owe each other down to zero. This time around I almost nailed it. A small part of me wants to send in a check for the amount of 5.99, just to see if Mr. Suit & Tie IRS guy is really on his game. A penny. Would he catch it? And if he did, would he send me that dreadful letter stating how I underpaid and that I still owe Uncle Sam another penny? Hmm, I wonder... This past month was a bitch, financially speaking. First off, I had to purchase my plane ticket so I can fly to Pennsylvania in April ( -425 ). Secondly, I have a new car that I'm making payments on now, so there's another added expense ( -300 ). Insurance is higher ( -100 ). My Toshiba laptop crapped out on me, so I got a brand new Asus ( -550 ). Rent came due, like always ( -425 ). And now for the real kicker: Just the other week I was drinking a few gin & tonics, trying to get some writing done, when

Gangland

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When I was in college, freshman year, I worked part-time at the McDonald's to earn fun money. I was still at that point in life when a kid defines "fun" as Magic The Gathering games on a Friday night instead of poker. It turns out all the other "kids" were more socially advanced than I was, they didn't have to work at McDonald's for their fun money. I finally learned how to play poker just last month. I'm 34. I did, however, learn how to tap into my grown-up rage at a very early age. Jeannie, the skinny blonde who worked the register while I dropped fries into a boiling grease vat in the back, was a local girl working for her own fun money. She wasn't in college though, she was in a gang. After a few blowjobs and the promise of future sex, I was lured into her violent circle of friends. Suddenly, and without initiation, I had become a Cue Dawg. I roamed the campus with a mixed group of guys and girls, mostly guys & mostly black. At ni

Two Corners (short story)

I have managed to paint myself into a corner. As I stand here with my back against the wall surveying the fresh coat of paint all around me, I look down at my feet and realize I've limited myself to six inches in every direction. I look across the room and see my girlfriend trapped by the same brushstrokes, trembling and crying and trapped in her own corner, crouched down and hugging her knees tight against her chest. To my left is a sliding glass door that exits to the outside balcony. It is open and I can feel the gentle breeze of life as it rushes in and swirls around my body, taunting me with its freedom. There is a cat poised on the railing, tail twitching wildly as it stares down at something of interest and meows loudly. I look back at my girlfriend. She now has her arm extended out, hovering and slowly moving in front of her, her index finger pointed down creating streaks in the floor in front of her. She is finger painting. Her lines take the shape of letters, words spel

Sick (short story)

I could hear a beeping sound coming from the adjacent room which sounded like a microwave that finished cooking and was now in 30 second alert mode. I tried to turn my head in that direction, but found it to be impossibly painful. I wasn't sure if my neck was broken or my head was tied down, since the rest of my body was forcefully inactive too. I tried to move my legs, nothing... my arms, nothing. There were dozens of localized points of pain all over my body, the worst being around my chest and waist area. It felt as though parts of me were on fire, but not fully engulfed in flames. The only motion I could muster was a slight tilt forward with my head, just enough to see several crochet-sized silver needles protruding from my chest, rising and falling with each labored breath I took. I dropped my head back and as I tried to remember what happened and how I got here, foot steps approached from my left. A small woman appeared next to me and placed her hand on my shoulder as she l

Chillin' & Grillin'

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I was standing in line at Carl's Jr for lunch the other day trying to decide what to order. As I neared the register the worker asked me what I would like and I said, "A taco and a spicy chicken sandwich, please." After pushing several buttons he looked up and asked me if I wanted a hard or soft taco to which I answered, "Umm... let me get it hard." Within seconds of my reply I heard childish laughter erupt directly behind me, and as I turn around I see a kid standing there giggling at me. He was maybe 12 years old, and while he laughed he held a few folded dollar bills up to his mouth as if trying to somewhat conceal his comedic outburst. For a brief moment I truly couldn't figure out what was funny, but there was no one else around and he was looking/laughing directly at me. I started to ask what was so humorous when suddenly it hit me, "Umm.. let me get it hard." Hahaha, oh man! There was nothing I could do except join in on the kid's reve