I Wish He’d Looked Like This.
SO, today I noticed I had mushrooms growing on my head so I decided to go outside and take a walk, get some sun. So I loaded up my decoy coffee travel mug with liquor, ate six chocolate donuts to get my strength up, and put on some pants.
I went to my old PO Box to see if any weirdness had come my way, but it was sadly full of junk mail. I suppose when you stop sending out a print zine, people stop mailing you. I am surprisingly not sad about that at all.
Walking home in Hoboken with my earbuds in, suddenly a sweaty, plump woman began talking to me. Because having earbuds in does not in any way imply that you cannot hear what someone is saying. Removing the earbuds, I politely grunted that she should repeat herself.
“I told that man to put on a shirt!”
I followed her gesture. About a block away was a guy in bike pants and no shirt, jogging. Even at this distance I could see he was as sweaty and shiny as a greased pigs. It was unsettling, but I didn’t let her know that. Instead, I looked at her and said “So?”
She looked outraged. “It’s illegal!”
I turned away. “Uh-huh.”
Perhaps it is. The list of things that are, in fact, illegal in this world is always surprising to me, to be honest. Especially when a court-appointed lawyer is explaining them to me in the grim interview room downtown I know so well. Who knew so many activities required pants? But shirts? That’s a whole different story. As far as I know it’s not illegal to run without a shirt. Perhaps uncouth, but not illegal.
The freaks are winning. What’s worse, the Freaks continue to think I look like one of them.