Hot Damn

So there I was, innocently standing in my bathroom completely naked, plucking nipple hairs. Three hours later, I feel like a shower so I pull back the curtain and what do I see? Another giant cockroach. I was not so shocked this time. Just a simple look of disgust passed across my face. Fuckin cockroach, I muttered. I walked to the living room and grabbed the raid. Sprayed the little dummy.He refused to die. I walked back to the kitchen, my buttocks trembling ever so slightly, and grabbed two plastic cups. I trapped the cock(roach) in between the cups and walked over to my window. I looked down and a fat lady was smoking a cigarette on our stoop. I threw the bug at her and it just missed her giant target of a body. The damn cockroach was still alive and quickly ran under a car. The fat lady listlessly watched it scurry away.

Shit, it's too damn hot here.

The Dummy

Tiger Woods is about to win the Masters for the third time. Damn, why did I bet on Mickelson...stupid left-handed dummy. Okay, the second half of interviews was pretty lame. Detroit Free Press cancelled, there was some kind of emergency there, I think it had something to do with Axel Foley, he always seems to be getting into trouble.

I interviewed with Rodale and it was a nightmare from start to finish. First of all, it was the human resources coordinator. Some stupid public relations reject that you can't talk shop with...Second of all, she was the type of woman who plays favorites to her fellow female. And I am perfectly all right with this, it happens enough the other way around so why not. Every chick I talked to that talked to this lady said she was cool and that they "bonded" or some shit. I, on the other hand, fucked up all over the place and she wasn't helping. She asked me if I was familar with their magazines and I said that i didn't read Organic Style cuz I wasn't into gardening. She returned with a kind but slightly patronizing rejoinder, "well organic style is not about gardening, it's more about blah blah blah." Like I gave a shit. but it was embarrassing nonetheless. she freakin kept asking me if I had any questions. Of course this is normal but the first time she asked I asked like 5 questions and then 5 minutes later she asked if I had any more questions and I said no. Then 2 minutes later she asked if I had any questions again and I was like, "What's the nightlife in the Lehigh Valley of Pennsylvania? Shit's poppin, huh?" And she was like, Well, it's fun, but not as good as New York City." Thanks for the news flash, dummy.Then 1 minute later she asked if I had any more questions and I was like, No, damn you! And then I got the fuck outtta there.

Went home, kicked it, felt like sleeping but I couldn't. Went to Brooklyn, met up with G-13 Classified, ate, talked, I spent a grip as usual. I told her why I was bringing back the word dummy: I saw this black kid about 17 years old with his little brother about 13, who looked slightly retarded. They had just come back from the market and the retarded kid was laggin. His older brother stopped, looked back and yelled, "Hurry up dummy!" And the retarded kid slowly walked up, he looked scared. Then the older brother shoved the plastic shopping bags at him and yelled, "Take this." The retarded kid wouldnt' take it, just sat there looking scared. "Take it!" He finally did and they walked around the corner, out of sight.

It was an interesting scene. It's not like the older brother was being cruel or anything, the impression that I got was one of frustration. The retarded younger brother was a constant source of shame and a burden on the older brother. And the kid wasn't fully retarded so it wasn't like he was like a baby who needed complete supervision, just a lot. Hence the dummy. It was a scene of a guy who had run out of patience. He loved his brother but was just sick and tired of being sick and tired. At least that was my interpretation.