Flip Flop lessons in how not to sit on top of your weekend
When walking into a dance studio to pretend my coolness upon the elderly of Tempe…I see the wrath of my existence bleeding upon the mirrors that remind me to purchase shaving cream. But, is this cool in a Don Johnson sort of way??? Maybe I ought to spend some eyesight on those tv-land re-runs…
I accidentally dissed out on Laura for class, only to be out later (after work) drinking with some buddies. Those “buddies” took me straight to the open aired gringos hang out where she was soak’em up with a couple of softball junkies. Nice…nice I think to myself as she says hello and I crawl into that apologetic stance of a beaten dog. But! Laura is cool and let me go unscathed. Oh yeah, poor Gina was lost on her way down to Tucson and couldn’t join us in the two-step rendition of Lassie Go the $#@! Home.
Lifted a TV the size of three dead bodies onto a crate that could be known as a crypt for a friend who loves to purchases stuff…why such an analogy? Ask my doctor sometime over a Fat Tire and Ritz Chips. I personally believe a large television is the coffin door to most people’s slipping grip on life into that casket of a couch. Whatever opens your door I say…at least they indulge. Footnote: Please excuse my rather oversized television.
Miller Lite, Dos Equis, Pizza Bread, and hot sauce on top of taquitos…what a way to end the weekend after a pitiful game of ‘keep the ball away from anyone but Nash’. I’m celebrating the loss of the SUNS run into the great wooden floor of glory. Though, that glorified floor is less shiny to me now. There’s always football season!
I accidentally dissed out on Laura for class, only to be out later (after work) drinking with some buddies. Those “buddies” took me straight to the open aired gringos hang out where she was soak’em up with a couple of softball junkies. Nice…nice I think to myself as she says hello and I crawl into that apologetic stance of a beaten dog. But! Laura is cool and let me go unscathed. Oh yeah, poor Gina was lost on her way down to Tucson and couldn’t join us in the two-step rendition of Lassie Go the $#@! Home.
Lifted a TV the size of three dead bodies onto a crate that could be known as a crypt for a friend who loves to purchases stuff…why such an analogy? Ask my doctor sometime over a Fat Tire and Ritz Chips. I personally believe a large television is the coffin door to most people’s slipping grip on life into that casket of a couch. Whatever opens your door I say…at least they indulge. Footnote: Please excuse my rather oversized television.
Miller Lite, Dos Equis, Pizza Bread, and hot sauce on top of taquitos…what a way to end the weekend after a pitiful game of ‘keep the ball away from anyone but Nash’. I’m celebrating the loss of the SUNS run into the great wooden floor of glory. Though, that glorified floor is less shiny to me now. There’s always football season!