birdmad see also hollywood_material_baby

Missed my first bus this morning, walked to the stop at the avenue to catch my connection and get to the office.

old man, white, with fading blonde hair turning that washedc ou, yellowish-white and with a yellwo t-short on over a brown plaid flannel shirt greets me. Scraggly beard and lips curled somewhat inward to suggest a lack of teeth

"Good Morning Senor, how are you today?"

"Oh, not bad this morning, not too bad at all, i guess"

"Hey, glad to hear it, hallelujah and all of that..."

he glances down at my work ID badge which must have flipped back out to show the picture and name ()i keep it flipped with the stripe side out because it is bead enough to be aesthetically defective in my own right without having that shitty picture making matters worse by reminding me that the camera's eye is, like my mirror, not my friend.

"I'll tell you what, Senor Mendez, I don't know who Tattoo is, but i know he killed grandpa...what do you think iof that?"

"I'll keep that in mind" i tell him. trying hard not to have a giggleing fit at the seeming absurdity of the statement and the straightforward manner in which he volunteered the information to me

"Yeah, when i saw him, i said 'chinga tu madre, killed grandpa' but he didn't say anything back, he just kinda stood there"

"Unbelievable," i tell him, hoping he'll expand on the story.

No such luck, he offers to buy one of my cigarettes from me but i give him one for free just as the bus shows up and he is seemingly enraptured by the sweetened paper around the filter

when i get off the bus and walk into my office building, oi commence to giggling like a fucking madman,
bird even in spite of the painful breathing, this shit is still givin' me the giggles 041124
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