A bit of (for lack of a better word) background on me. Conceived in a brackish backwater where fresh and saltwater meet. Get wet and show their H2O faces. Spit out a swell thing like me. A drip dropped in my case. Without a thought. By two bodies that bumped ugly’s and waved goodbye. Yours truly left at the epicenter hardly a ripple disturbing the surface. No identity and no idea I also existed in two other physical states.

Don’t get me heated. It makes me gassy. A cold shoulder leaves me frozen. When melting I get sassy. "Rain rain go away come again some other day" Is just one of the ways humans attempt to harass me. Thunder is my retort. A gas cloud passing massive ass cheeks. Hail a death nail. Until I quickly run off to were molecules amass in creeks.

For a little while I got caught up in acid rain. Dabbled in psychedelics. It helped me let go of some pain. Did a stint as bong water. Until kicked over I poured out on the carpet, evaporated, and left that white shag stained. A smell worse than vomit that stayed with me like a ball and chain. I was pissed every other time I kissed the sky. And grew only denser as the mountains below got closer. It makes me edgy having no personal space. Of course I turned into a snowflake and argued my case. Is this the face of water? ☃️ A mockery rolled out and made to wear a lump of coal. Imagine that? Where’s my rainbow bridging H2O’s favorite states. To send me somewhere tropical. I’ve been much to cold as of late. "Arrivederci" and a wave goodbye. "Oh swell there‘s

another bitter pill to swallow on my plate"

Often mentioned in the company of teeth. In the thick of battle. Paired with a equally battle ready tooth. Literarily and often when engaged in small talk or more meaningful conversations.

NAILS originating from finger or toe. Are generally found looking quiet similar in the wild. But taken out of the jungle. And placed in more urban settings. They can take on any number of different looks. There being no rules really or fashion faux pas associated with them.

Every nail finds a looking fitting the fingers they’re meant to finish. Found at our limbs extremities. Traditionally in four groups each numbering five. most communally described as….

dirty, bitten, painted, fake, acrylic, French manicured, pedicured, broken, or a bad hang. And a number of other names I’ve failed to mention. I. e. watch out for the ones who's claws have yet to come out.

Looking over my own. Before attempting to describe what mine have shown. I’ve found at times they differ in resemblence from day to day. And at others remain then spitting image of one another. But the term i’ve used to describe them most often is WORKING MANS hands with dirty fingernails combined with toenails found with fungus growing under them.

Commanded to look out my window. And what do I find? At the sight of such bright light? Nothing but stark white. A scene so blank it bites. I’m taken aback blind. For a split second. Till I stand vision corrected. Eyes adjusted having a clearer picture now crossing my mind. If I’m able to disregard the telephone wires running every which way across our little valley. On my way to spotting first the ocean. Followed by the pier. Then to the south Pedro point. Pausing and pulling my eyes away for only a moment to take a pull off a joint. Before in the blink of an eye wink settling my gaze upon a horizon purely turquoise & pink. Until the green light flashes. And dusks endearing twilight accents the waves crashing the party. Drinking it all in before the adamant shadow shows it’s colors. Throwing shade until finally fading altogether. Best we let The Left Coast undress and rest.

WHEN AT YOUR WORST. YOU’ll WANT WORSE NEARER TO YOU.

Slinger of a curse or two. I cuss, smoke, drink, sometimes even stink. You see?

I’m a lot more like you than you think. Agree? That your in no condition to drive? Call an Uber One Star. You’ll save face when we arrive. And though unforced. All focus on my disgrace. While I ferry you from place to place.

Tipping early and often is recommended if I’m to keep up any pace. After witnessing all of my infractions yours won’t even leave a trace.

For the sum of a few dollars more. I’ll probably get in someone’s face. And publicly insult their race. Offer to jump on proverbial grenades. A ready wingman only if such is the case.

The friends a heavyweight.

The year is 2222. An alien armada just disengaged it’s cloaking device and reveled itself amassed near the earths moon. Anybody at an organization with the capability to witness there arrival appears dumbstruck for a moment. Then their expressions and actions quickly change to a more fearful state. As they frantically reach for phones to inform whomever they must of what has just occurred.

"Who? What? Where? Thats impossible."

"It seems sir it’s possibility is not in question. Its been confirmed by NSA‘s A.I. recognition software. Fingerprints match. Retinas match. Voice is a match. It’s him sir. Though he appears to have barely aged in the two hundred years since he went missing"

"Was the rest of the crew with him Major?"

”No sir. The rest of SPACE X 9 crew is alive and well on the planet they crashed landed on a two century‘s ago. According to Elon they came into contact with a wormhole near the rings of Saturn. That spit them out on a planet in an unknown galaxy and soon discovered a very welcoming alien civilization. There living in a habitable environment by human standards as well. It seems they assimilated in with the natives quite easily. And their customs (SpaceXcrew) eventually became the norm. Spreading thru out the local population"

"Thats a good bit of info Major. Has Elon already been interviewed?"

"No sir he sent a group text to most of the worlds leaders. Explaining such just moments before the armada became visible to earths inbound detection sentry’s. Check your cell Mr President"

"I assume Major we’re on full alert and the dome has been activated to shoot down any inbound payloads. We have to assume this is an alien ploy to keep our guard down"

"Yes sir and your security council is convening in the war room"

"Ok well shit! Lets get down there Major"

"Oh sir and another thing everything on earth powered by Tesla energy cells has received numerous updates to improve efficiency just in the last two minutes. The downloads are still running in fact"

"The invasion has begun Major. See to it everyone is dressed for battle when they arrive. I don’t expect a friendly homecoming"

"Settle down Mr. President. It is I Elon. The Sons of Elon are the most compassionate of people. We breath oxygen and consume food no different than yourself. And are shit stinks as well. We mean you no harm"

Is heard over the p.a. System in the White House. In a voice similar to Elons it is thought.

There! Is the light at the end of the tunnel. I half heartedly explain to myself. Gesturing with my nose pointing the way. For my arms are pinned to my side. In this shaft none to wide. So thankful am I to have you buy my side. You always show up in pinch. Ms. Anxiety. Though little help have you provided me. What won’t stop bitting me?

I’ve screamed my heart out. (Help me!) To no avail. No doubt sooner or later I’ll probably start panicking and begin to wiggle and wail. Throwing caution to the wind. Until exhausted I lower my chin and settle in. Which will relax my body causing me to sink deeper into the abyss I imagine.

"This will be a miserably slow death" I said aloud. No sense preserving my breath. What’s the chance I’m stumbled upon by strangers? Before dehydration and starvation make me resemble someone strung out on meth. And I slide my way to the bottom of this shaft never to be heard from again.

After many days of agonizing pain. And deeply disturbing thoughts while being pelleted by rain. Sent from the heavens to drive me mad. I had slid so far down while asleep. I refused myself rainwater. In the hopes I’d die rather than go on feeling so unbearable sad. I knew I’d never see my daughter again. And she’d always wonder what happened to dad. That was the lowest I’d ever felt. What hope do I have? I wanted to see her again so very very bad.

As the slot I suffered in soaked it grew slicker. And I slide farther and quicker. I swear I couldn’t see light anymore. For some reason this made me snicker. From here on out me and my thoughts only spoke to question the validity of the others. As I grew sicker. More and more we’d bicker. One beating the other up for giving in and sneaking sips of life giving liquor and vice versa.

The worse was yet to come. I tried not to imagine. And the it happened. I no longer had the girth to resist gravity. Tragically. The thought that crossed my mind as I slide faster. And then magically I felt my arms waving freely above my head for a moment. Had I died or was it a hallucination. In the pitch black I had little in the way of indication.

Just then I felt a breeze. Right before immense pain shot up thru my knees. Then I heard a loud cracking sound. And I passed out a half a second later. I am told that’s how I was found by some miners in a golf cart doing their rounds. Making sure the shaft was fully evacuated before activating the explosive charges they‘d planned to blast rock that day.

I’d had fallen in an uncovered shaft drilled to exhaust hazardous gas by the former operators of the mine twenty years ago. And the new company only took possession of the abandoned mine a month ago. After the price of ore went thru the roof. If it hadn’t I’d of died in the endless array of pitch black tunnels surely. Instead of waking up from a coma in the hospital a week later. To the sound of my crying little lady. Her tears of joy raining down on my bewildered gaunt looking face.

One mention of a free hit lured.

A doll faced dope sick junkie down an ally and behind a dumpster. There he proceeded to get high with the stranger and then expressed his gratitude.

"Your a lifesaver kind sir. I needed that fix. I wasn’t far from experiencing the systems of withdrawal" Jesus said.

Then immediately after offered to jerk the man off (under his breath) for twenty bucks. The gentlemen handed over a twenty. And after a few minutes of casual chit chat had passed mentioned he had just flown in from Munich.

"Boy are my arms tired" exclaimed Jesus the junkie. While jerking off the Germans schwanz with both hands. Just then another twenty dollar bill was tossed his way. And Jesus put his mouth to work. Vigorously blowing the guy.

"Open your eyes Jesus. Peek-a-boo! Let me get a good look at you?" said the jerry.

"Can you not see? What I cannot see for myself. Will you share your perspective with me?" Jesus inquired still juggling the Germans balls in his mouth. Which inspired the jerry to spontaneously wax poetic. In very good English to man’s credit.

"Like a hooker counting money. Done with staring up you’ll see. Choking down their distaste for me and all my ancestry"

"Das ist gut German. Have I got a joke for you"

Jesus replied in a amusingly accurate accent to the Jerry’s surprise.

"How are German children taught to tie their shoes?”

The German shrugged as if to say I have no clue.

"In little nazi’s!"

A juiced up Jesus the junkie exclaimed. The Jerry chuckled, finished on Jesus’s face and pulled up his pants. Offered the junkie a bottle of water he had spiked with some medication. That should react badly with the drugs already in his system. And watched him drink it. Jesus’s body would be found unresponsive on a street in San Francisco‘s tenderloin not long after. From an apparent overdose. After the coroner‘s autopsy those suspicions would be confirmed. San Francisco homcide detectives remaining none the wiser. Of the assassin working in their neighborhood.

To be continued

A young green ham I am.

Not quite a man I’m damned.

A naïve wannabe mainly tan contrarian. And a downright sucker guy or a sexy librarian.

Staring down the future. Hoping we can get beyond the past. What’s a couple of sutures and a god damn walking cast? My broken bits still mend quite quick. But my teenage heart now timidly ticks. To a terrible rhythm beating bitterly tricked.

It was my time to learn the truth. Like blind faith is for foolish youths. All smiles when she kissed me. Then she took off for college blissfully. Said she wrote me notes always ending with how much she missed me. I counted the days. You know the story it’s old history.

I was clueless to her I was nothing more than a goof. Like/unlike those in the line behind me at her kissing booth. Of course I hang on and fought tooth and nail. Had a bloody fight with myself before I bailed. I didn’t leave no breadcrumbs to find the way back down her trail. Then found out it’s a two way street. After two or three times my ship had sailed.

Of course I didn’t take it well. I get ashamed of myself when I reminisce for short spells. It turns out I’m no better. I was no different down to the letter.

Sad and sick of seeking something better suiting our sensitivities elsewhere. We tip toe around a minefield of better left unsaid rhetoric to get back to there.

Situated in that sensational station we found formerly agreeably fare. The place the passion that pleased us previously presided. Even though it was absent that last innumerable number times we tried to find it. At that spot I thought and you exclaimed was the same. Appearing to have experienced such. But unfortunately for I and you. Your act was overplayed a touch. Ensuring my ego wouldn’t allow itself to be saved.

By your gracelessly delivered lie. I tried to be hush hush but you probably garnered as much. When I didn’t gush but brushed over that fact in a rush to ferry your focus elsewhere.

Because the misery we grown to know. Beats the thought of searching thru a sea of psychotic suitors. Just to settle on another sycophant we don’t. Whatever we loved. The times of it coming regularly are long gone. So sporadic it’s become barely a memory.

Liar! Liar! Flame retardant pants? Don't catch fire! Hey this just dawned on me. "To infinity and beyond" is a dumb blondes catch phrase.