This is going to be the best day of my life…..despite kidney dialysis, a new, rather moody female friend, a future that may include a kidney transplant, and moving from my home of fifty years. I may resume a long dead sex life. I am not going to live as long as my father, who is ninety seven. The idea that I have a serious illness is making me live like today is going to be the best day of my life.
Life is just a bunch of moments. What if I kicked the bucket tomorrow?
Billions before me have already kicked it. Nobody really knows where you are going. This mystery is very scary. I will keep going, I will carry on. Enjoying life whenever possible.
I have goals: I want to make whoopie with a woman at least one more time. I want to get a kidney transplant and get my energy back. I want to fall in love. If I can achieve all three goals I expect many more happy moments.
I’ve worked over forty-nine jobs in the Frederick County area. That’s given me a wide range of work experiences, especially how to quit and how to get fired. I now command salaries of up to nine dollars an hour.
At my last job, my boss, Jena, a rather attractive woman asked me to please get to work. I winked at her and said, “Jena, there is nothing wrong with getting a little behind.”
That was my last day there.
I have sales experience in jewelry, real estate, fire alarms, frozen steaks, furniture, and marijuana. None of these jobs was lucrative, but selling marijuana helped me to get laid once.
One of my qualities is that I take jobs that require mindless labor and no responsibility, and focus on getting to know my co-workers. On the clock, I’m a real people person.
My main requirement now is that I work with women. My motto has always been: Work hard, play hard, but don’t play hard to get. I’ve always appreciated promiscuous female co-workers–without them, I wouldn’t have had nearly as much sex on the job.
I’m currently seeking employment as a Mystery Shopper inside dialysis clinics. Keeping a close eye on nurses comes naturally to me.
When I look back at my past, I can see that my future has to be better. It can’t be any worse. It is always darkest just before the light.
Since I am always in the doghouse with my girlfriend, I would like to find a plastic surgeon to marry. A nip here, a tuck there, I could look twenty years younger. Then a kidney transplant, and replace other organs that have taken a beating. I’ll be good as new and ready for sex, drugs, and rock and roll.
Do you want to shave my legs? My roommate’s girlfriend was questioning me from across the room. She came out of the bathroom totally naked. My roommate was at work. I was stoned so my judgement was thrown off. Her smile, and what I knew of her past, led me to believe she wanted to make whoopie.
It was 1982, sex, drugs and rock and roll were a big part of my life then. My roommate was a crack head. This attractive girl would run up the street and get it for him. She was fearless. That afternoon she taught me things you don’t learn in school. I was 24 and nearly a virgin. Twenty minutes passed and I was as wiped out as if I had wrestled a bear. There are events from my past that I wish I could forget, but this is not one of them.
I once lived for two weeks in a tiny Ford Festiva.
Everything in my life had gone bad: no job, no home, no money. I still had my car, and at that young age I was not worried. But when my food ran out I did get a little wild.
I went into a bar called, The Old Town Tavern. I sat next to a very large, round woman. She was chugging beers, and doing shots of tequila. She invited me to her apartment. I looked at her and thought, “There has to be a lot of food there.”
While I was looking in her loaded refrigerator, she had gone into the bathroom. I was shocked when I walked into her room. She’d put on a small black teddy. She said “I’m messed up and I want to fool around.”
I was younger then, I was hungry, and, unbelievably, I had a boner. I climbed on top of her and gave it my best for about 2 minutes.
As I was getting up and off, she asked me, “Is it in yet?”
I said “I’m not sure.”
Then I went to the kitchen, grabbed two bagels and a box of Velveeta, and ran out the door.
Oh to be young again!
For years I carried a condom in my wallet. Then, when I finally needed it, I opened it up, and it looked like a bunch of shredded rubber bands.
I met this woman. We dated, and she was always asking me for money. Twice I caught her going into my wallet. She was cold-hearted and never wanted sex.
That’s when it occurred to me:
this woman was just like my old condom–always in my wallet, never on my wiener.