Having my car in the shop has provided me the opportunity to walk a few miles to the nearest book shop offering WiFi and coffee. I've taken that opportunity. As I blog and slug down java, I'm noting no tenderness in my knee. This is also a chance to write in the trendy present tense. I'm here. I'm sitting. I'm watching a bus outside. I'm touching a sore spot on the inside of my cheek where I burned myself eating hot pizza. I'm thinking about mailing my loud neighbor a bag of coyote urine, but wonder if that would be a crime? Who could I pay to urine-milk a coyote?
Maybe I'll take the bus back to the repair shop.
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6 comments:
"Who could I pay to urine-milk a coyote?"
Rhetorical?
It think that's best.
Are ya sure? Cuz I know a guy who knows a guy..
Ok I'll leave it alone.
He'd make a deal, for the right price...
His tastes include primordial dwarfism, latex textures, and Brazilian tapirs.
[I can only imagine what that means.]
Does he wear gloves? If so, then he's a professional. You couldn't afford him.
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