The girl in green...

My house, like my teeth, is a ticking time bomb of decay.

I stepped on a soft spot on the floor today, and I thought it would collapse and I’d soon be under my house like Walter White grabbing his cash, covered in cobwebs and moldy dirt.

I don’t seem to have the want to call the landlord to get it fixed. It would mean weeks of construction workers ambling about my house, tearing up the floors and making my life miserable. I’d rather just not jump on my floor much. A simpler solution.

Speaking of, let’s talk drinking. Last night, I drank a few beers. It seemed like a very good idea. It ended up just being an idea. No great prose seeped out of my brain. No mindstorm. It ended up just being me, sitting on the couch, watching great old movies such as “Panic in the Streets” and “California Split.” At some point, I started sending massive Twitter messages. When those hashtag wars start, I just want Patton Oswalt to see mine. He doesn’t need to approve of it, or hate it. Just see it.

When I finally was ready to pass out, I went to my room and thought about masturbating. Key word being thought. I was asleep before I could spit on my hand.

I was woken by thunder sometime around 7 a.m. It’s a great feeling. The bed seemed to shake from one particularly large one. I laid there thinking about how nice it would be to live in the jungle, where such storms were an everyday occurrence and not a nice respite from the ordinary. Of course, then, thunderstorms and rain might become the ordinary.

A woman walks by my house. She’s wearing a green one-piece bathing suit. It makes her legs look awfully long – in a good way. I watch those legs the entire stretch of the block I can see from my window. I know if she saw me there, shirtless and in my underwear, she’d think about calling the cops. I guess luckily for me, she didn’t. I look at her car in the parking lot across the street. It’s a green Ford Focus. Her thing for green intrigues me. Does she like Green Day or even Green Jelly. Remember that song they did – “Three Little Pigs”? Maybe her mother read her “Green Eggs and Ham” as a child. Her favorite movies? Well, “The Green Mile” and “Soylent Green”, for sure. I decide to put on some clothes and go stare inside her car. I put on a green shirt and green shorts. If it were cold out, I’d put on green soccer socks. My Adidas Sambas have green stripes. Maybe we are a perfect fit, I allow myself to think for a moment as I walk across the street.

I hit the gravel of the parking lot when another car comes screeching in. They are playing “House of Pain” very loudly and drinking Coronas. My will to live is somewhat halted at the moment of their introduction to my life.

They park right next to the green car and get out. I decide to stop where I’m at and turn around. I get back to my carport and sit on my stool. Yes, it’s green.

The three clowns in the car get out. Two have Ed Hardy shirts on. The other has no shirt on, but appears to have Ed Hardy designs tattooed on his chest. I think of Brock Lesnar’s “sword” tattoo on his chest. I wonder if the artist did that on purpose? It really looks like a penis. Anyway, our parking lot villains proceed to take out their beach chairs and their cooler and place them in the parking lot ground. Instead of going to the beach – two blocks away – they have decided, it appears, to hang out in the parking lot of a shag dance club.

I sigh and go inside. I have to be leaving for work in about 45 minutes. So, I need to shower. I’ve already shit today, which was necessary after the night and day of drinking beer and eating shitty food. Of course, all of the turds floated. Too much fat in the diet when they bob around the bowl.

The will to go to work is not strong today. Not that it ever is, but lately, it’s been willless – to attempt to invent a word of usefulness. I wonder if Mike Ness would use them? That would be careless of him. I should send him the words in an envelope – but it would be fruitless. I really like Les Nessman’s newscasts. They do more with less.

At some point, I have to stop. The bills must be paid. The game must be played. Until it’s completion.

Do people ever use the world nadir? I used it the other day, and two people went “Huh?” with their eyes.

I’d like to use mulct in conversation. But I don’t want to talk politics.

I used to love politics. The first girl I ever fell in love with, we used to talk politics. I used to take the Republican side just to mess with her. I think she ended up believing I believed in the “cause”. She and I didn’t date very long. I still send her Christmas and birthday cards. Her and her girlfriend. She thinks my birthday is April 1. It’s April 9. I don’t know when that shift occurred. I used to get the cards around the 9^th, then one year, it became the 1^st. I’m guessing it means at some point she decided I was a joke. One that had to keep being told. At least that’s what my warped mind wraps itself around. Seems to fit.

The girl in green comes back to her car.  She didn’t stay at the beach long. She is walking up the street. I wonder what she thinks of the douchebags hanging out around her car. She seems them. She starts running towards them. When she gets to the cars, she hugs the guy without a shirt on. Then kisses him.

Well, there goes another imaginary relationship. Time to get ready for work.