Before I Forget
I popped in to the gym late this afternoon. Right next to the branch I usually go to is a Taco Bell. As I left the gym I walked by The Bell and glanced in the window. Right squarely in the front facing the street sat a woman. I judged her to be about thirty. It was kind of hard to say. What I could say for sure was that she had gone into The Bell. She ordered her nutritious taco dinner and had carried it to the front window. She sat and unwrapped her nutritious taco dinner. She may or may not have had a bite or two. It was impossible to judge as she was now face down in her taco dinner. My first thought? Hell yeah! That's what I wanna see! If you're gonna commit to something fucking jump in with both feet. If you want to say, party like a rock star, don't do it half assed. How do you know when you're partying like a rock star? When it's 6:15 on a Friday evening and you're face down in your taco. Mission accomplished.
As I returned home contemplating the tableau I couldn't get the image or the expression out of my head. Face down in your taco. It's quite an evocative expression, isn't it? I mean, if I told you I was sick as a dog, a mess, that I was practically face down in my taco, you'd know what I meant wouldn't you? Would you now? And would you consider using face down in my/her taco as an expression of the lowest of lows? Rock bottom in both deed and word. Pretty please?
Oh, and one more thing.....
(From The Mailbag) - OK mail pouch
I have become an avid reader, if I remember correctly I think I found out about your blog from Devon. Anyway, you're cool. I wish you only the best.
I would like to send you some printed material, this is not bullshit, I am serious. This is not a joke or bullshit or anything mean. Would you mind providing me with a mailing address?
I know this sounds goofy as fuck and I assure you it's something that you will like seeing, just a regular envelope with some info in it. I'd even FedEx it, if you don't mind getting woke up by the sexy FedEx guy!
Thank you so much for taking the time to write to me. I'm sure most people would be totally paranoid giving out a mailing address but I'm not most people I'm a little nuts. So here you go:
??? Second Ave #??
New York, NY 1????
Now fair warning. If you're planning on coming here to kill me it's best to hang out in front of the building around 2pm. I rarely leave the house before then. I'm hardly ever home at night so you'll have about a three hour window of opportunity to get the job done. And please, don't FedEx whatever you're sending. The FedEx guy isn't hot and he comes at 10am.
I don't believe I've had an avid reader before.....
Keep reading I'll keep writing.
So if I wind up dead or letter bombed anytime soon, look for this guy.