Friday Morning in my particular zip code in HELL

this morning i woke up to NPR crowing about iraqi democracy, or the lack thereof. so i did what the president does, i hit snooze and slept a little longer, hoping it will all go away.

finally my eyes wouldn't let me go back to sleep. it was 6:27 AM. my eyes felt like they'd been rubbed with pine cones dipped in gerbil piss. i was tired. what does my girl do? she asks me to rub her back. she never asks me to rub her back when i got a lot of energy. it's always, "baby, rub my back." right when i'm going to sleep or waking up. She doesn't even lift her head off the pillow to say it. she just muffles her lips right into the "slobber" scab on the pillow.

sometimes i think when she asks for a back rub, it weakens my arms. my muscles shrink. i can barely lift them. so like i stick my arm out and "scrape" her back, kind of like those crackheads clean your window, only with less enthusiasm.

2 times and then i'm done. up down, twice, and then it's over. i'm talking about back rubs you sick-minded people. then my girl always says, "that's fucked up, I rubbed your feet."

What she considers rubbing my feet is basically kicking the bottom of my feet with her toes. half the time it hurts, i'm just too polite to say anything. i get massage crumbs. she wants massage cake, for massage crumbs. i'll tell you what, that dog just don't hunt.

then when i was ready to leave, my girl starts bothering me again. how come women only bother you when you're ready to walk out the door? i been standing in this room for going on 30 minutes, and my broad didn't say a peep. the minute i face the door to leave, it's bother her man time.

anyways, she wants me to go over and apologize to flower. that's right, this is no drug-induced hallucination. she wants me to apologize to a plant. my girl bought me a flower that she calls "dalilah." totally sappy estrogen laden poppycock. this is what drives men to mainline tequila and john the brotherhood aboard a pirate ship in the phillipines. anyways, she wants me to apologize to a plant, because the night before i threatened to snap the stem to get her to shut up. i can't remember the details, but her mouth was rolling like a FLorida Hurricane, and so like to shut her up, i took dililah hostage. I grabbed it's stem and promised to break the plant if she didn't pipe down and then she said this, "i can't believe you're bringing the children into this."

....

maybe this is the untold story between oj and nicole. maybe she treated plants like people and in a rage for sanity he cut her head off...

anyways, in order to leave the prison of my own apartment which my girl is now the warden of, I had to say, "sorry" to the plant. i got her back, because inside i wasn't even sorry. HAHAHA....ehhhh....i'm a sufferer of ovary fatigue.

but my day did brighten up. i stopped by jack in the crack for an extreme sausage sandwich, and when i opened it up i got a nice surprise. one of the latino fast food elves had accidentally left a piece of bacon on top of the bun and it was smeared with cheese. how in the holy heavens did i get so lucky? i ate it and was soooo satisfied. i don't know why, but i always eat the little accidents in the fast food bag. and extra curly fry here, a chicken nugget there. it never occurs to me that someone dropped it in there because they were jamming food into their mouths while they were making my order. maybe because if it did, i wouldn't eat it.

i don't spellcheck.