Sunday Morning Blues

I wake up on a beautiful Sunday morning fresh as a daisy and bored. What to do what to do. What else but the usual shit. Shower, shit, shave, brush teeth, put on clothes. Ok. Now what?

I turn on the computer. Sit there. Wait. Google chrome. Facebook. It’s the day after Halloween so everyone’s got ridiculous pictures up. I scroll through it. Some girl dressed up as the six flags old guy. Bald cap and all. The rest are slutty angel or slutty whatevers. The comments were things like “omg so adorable!” And “beautiful pic girls! Xo!” And “everything about this picture is heaven.” Multiple likes on each of the comments. I can’t take it anymore.

I go to youjizz and crank one out to some girl getting paid to fuck off the street by that Czech guy. A whore is a whore whether she does it once or for a living I guess. But maybe I’m just jealous I can’t pay that much money for good fucked up sex like that.

I walk out the house and down the steps. At the bottom of the stairs, I see that the neighbor’s balcony is trashed. Broken bottles, unfinished Bud Light cans, crumpled pack of Marlboro reds. I can’t help but look at the lot disapprovingly. I walk past an untouched cigarette that someone must’ve dropped by accident at some point in the night. I picture the scene. Some bitch laughing. Some guy trying to light it and it falls out her drunk mouth. He bends down and hits his face on her knee and she laughs and says I’m sorry and never mind its ok I got another one. Bumbling fools. Maybe they fucked later on that night. Or she just gave him some good old fashioned sloppy drunken head like back in the old days.

I stop and watch that cigarette on the ground for a little while as I resist the urge to pick it up and light it. It would kill the boredom… But only for 5 minutes. Next thing you know you’re back to two packs a day. Then the guilt. The shame. The resparking of the addictions. We know where it all goes don’t we now. Too old to have careless fun. Too young to hang up the towel and retire from the world. I decide to keep walking and feel good about my stoicism for the moment. Asceticism is power.

I get in the car. The player’s still broken. They want 200 to fix it. Can’t bring myself to spend that much on something so nothing. I turn on the radio which still works but its all pop and commercials. Even Stern is on Sirius now. I catch the hook of a Taylor Swift classic and puke a little in my mouth before turning the damn thing off. God I’d love to give her a rough angry fuck. Slap her around. Choke her. Teach her something about this world of ours where pain is pleasure. She’d probably fall in love with me after but when I’d show her who I really am, the way too sensitive for this world side, she’d probably step all over me too. And then I’d go and get a joint and a pack of smokes and its back on the pony baby. Who needs her. Who needs any of them.

I drive to Albertson’s in silence. Chirps and mufflers and sunshine. The soundtrack to real life. I forget the radio and smile. At Albertson’s I get a loaf of rustic pugliese, sliced Swiss cheese, humus, turkey breast and pickles. We’re healthy and mindful now, remember? No more muffins and frozen pizzas. I check the per ounce price on everything and make sure it’s the cheapest generic alternative to name brands. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s always go for the generics. The copy cats. The guys who are second and third to market. Or better yet, the last to the finish line.

The woman next to me in the deli section looks at the organic deli meats. Sorry bitch. Organic doesn’t mean shit except higher prices. I keep walking. An enormous black man about 6’5 gets a gallon of milk. Hmm yeah I need some milk too but I’ll never be as tall as him, never produce the same effect on women as he can simply by walking into the room. I keep walking down the aisle. A Mexican lady with a flat nose shopping for pork. No deals here. Ooh the rib eye’s on sale for 5.99 a lb. That doesn’t happen often. I pick out a pack of 2 great looking steaks and feel semi-happy and half-fulfilled. If my life ended now I’d think I got a pretty good deal on my groceries. Oh but wait. The tilapia’s on sale too! A gorgeous faced girl with pretty feet next to me is looking at the fish too. I find a package marked manager’s special that takes another .93 cents off. Who’s a winner today baby? That’s right. I’m the winner today. I smile at her gorgeous face and steal another glance at her feet. Ooh the blackberries..! Take it easy boy. A voice jumps out at me. That’s enough excitement for today. Steak and fish is plenty. Too much luck in one day can raise your expectations and ensure future dissatisfaction and unhappiness. I solemnly agree and head for the checkout. I grab 8 AAA batteries on the way. I need them.

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