Suffer to Sip_technology troubles_The Big Grilled Cheese_Suicide or Cilantro
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Suffer to Sip
Of course, it would be painful. My mother has often said that life is not a playground of fairness, and this has served to ground me at every turn. If I have ever wanted anything, especially as much as I want this, it has come at a cost. Discomfort is a fact of life. Watching the girl across from me, hand in bowl and inattentive to the small pink cup next to her, I wait as her pudgy hands plunge in for another hollow round. Will this torture ever end? Just as I think she is about to pull out and slowly devour her last sweet smelling, pea sized circle and traipse away, then again, she finds ano...
technology troubles
Houston, we have a problem, that is what I said to my cat Houston who sat indifferently as I tried to get the TV to come on. The remote wasn't working again. I will now have to get the manual out and reprogram the thing, which takes forever! I leave the security of my nice warm bed and lumber through the apartment to find the book written in so many convenient different languages. I speak English, or at least the American variant of the language. I finally find it in the drawer of my desk stuffed in the back with a bunch of receipts that I have no idea what they are for. Anyway, I return to th...
The Big Grilled Cheese
Tony Abbott was having fun telling his story. “So I told her, ‘Rebecca, Sweetheart, I may not be the best man in bed, but I sure as hell can make a yummy grilled cheese sandwich!’ And the look in her eyes suggested that she didn’t believe me. So I put my pants on, turned off the dirty movie and marched to the kitchen to prove her wrong.”Rick Smalls shook his head with a mixture of disgust and glee. “Tony, It’s admirable that you’re willing to own your shortcomings in the sack, but you cannot compete with me in the department of sandwich construction!”Both men paused, gazing around their patron...
Suicide or Cilantro
Note: This story contains substance abuse, language, and thoughts about suwww.onedoor.ccicide.***Toward the end of the evening, I like to take a drink. The longer I work at the taco truck, the earlier the end of the evening becomes. You know, there’s that saying about it being five o’clock somewhere, a saying that a lot of people use as an excuse to get drunk before dinner. I always say it’s five o’clock somewhere, too, which irritates the hell out of me. I want to sound more refined than that. The gourmands I once starved to impress say they drink at 17:00. Well, I imagine they say that. I always thought t...