The Beach

There’s death in the Middle East and I’ve got sand in my shorts. Not that hot, bacteria filled crap that the Bedouins sleep in, but honest to goodness beach sand. I got it when I met a girl whose idea of a good time was bourbon at $6.99 a gallon and cigarettes that smelled like the burning bush. She was eye balling me all night as I sank deeper and deeper into cheap beer and pointless existence. It wasn’t until she had her hand on my thigh that I really noticed just how cursed she was. Some say things like, “God awful” or “Mule ugly”. Her? She made the ugly end of a horse’s ass look like The Madonna and Audrey Hepburn combined. But cheap beer and unintentional celibacy got the better of me. As I long as I didn’t look to close at her brown teeth. Somehow we ended up on Coney Island. All I can recall of the trip is her hyena laugh when she invited me to sample some of the juice she bought off her pimp. To this day my arm still tingles when I see platform shoes. God only knows what would have happened if I hadn’t passed out. What DID happen was I woke up with sticky eyelids, a fat kid dripping ice cream on my face and no money. Maybe I’d be better off in the Middle East. At least there they have the decency to kill you before they roll you.

©dharmanavy 2010

The Beach

Bluto

Joined January 2010

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