The SOB posts have been few and far between lately. I mean, if I tweet a few times a day, I’ve pretty much said all I have to say.
But there are still a lot of episodes that can’t be recapped in 140 characters. Take last Friday for example. Gina Party stayed at my place after a night of drinking.
“Where can I sleep that hasn’t been peed on?” she slurred.
“The ottoman,” I slurred back.
Now the ottoman is about four feet long, and I’m guessing Gina is around 5′ 8″.
But there she was the following morning – passed out on the only pure piece of fabric I own.
“I need a piece of pizza,” she said after she rolled off her throne.
“You probably worked up an appetite getting all of that rest.”
“No doubt. And I need to get home and get ready for Fast Eddie’s.”
And away she went.
My job ain’t a job. It’s a damn good time. City to city, I’m running my rhymes.