Full Moon Blues
I stink. I don't just stink, I smell very ripe. I have attended and out door BBQ, in the warm desert sun, consuming mass quantities of home brewed beer and homemade mexican cuisine. After which, I went to a smelly filthy karoke bar and played pool with a random stranger whoms nickname was "Enginge Joe." My new friend Keith (his real name) was quite the scary looking, long haired, rough & tumble construction worker type, who didn't smell very nice either. After this excursion ended, I traveled back home and had some sweaty sex and passed out.
My sleep was interupted several times as the comely lass sleeping next to me tends to perspire in any temperature; and if she can't sleep, then I don't either. Thankfully I was rewarded for my discomfort the next day with some wake-up, make-up sex and spent most of the rest of today trudging through various stores in a shopping mall. The intitial quest was to find a pair of Dickies, but somehow I managed to lose 4 hours of my day for this one article of clothing.
Finally returning home, I have done all of my laundry, cleaned the kitchen and helped my father put the summertime window screens on my sisters house. It has been now close to 36 hours since I have showered or done any sort of hygene activity beyond brushing my teeth.
Yet somehow, on my half mile drive to the local circle K, a car full to teenage girls clamored for my attention and I made a very cute chick in a VW bus blush when I smiled at her. If this wasn't enough, the clerk at my local circle K called me "QT" and oggled me inappropriately as I left.
Maybe such filth translates into some sort of insatiable hormone driven desire that females simply can't help but find endearing and horribly attractive? Maybe the manly smell I am giving off really isn't as bad as I think it is? Or maybe, must maybe...
D'oh
Nevermind, it's just a full moon.
46 hours until my vacation truly begins, but that, as they say, is another story all together.
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