Where I’m At

This is where stories normally begin. But is it a story? Well kinda, sorta. It began in my head after a bit of prodding from a beautiful woman. Now, she is somehow taking a physical form on this computer screen. OK, maybe she wasn’t prodding. But she is a beautiful woman.

morning metro ride

I could also say that this is where the adventure begins and reality will now take a back seat. Yes, more than likely, because we must look into the future and gaze through the telescope mounted on her apartment balcony and re-discover Jupiter’s Titan. Circling the moon is the Spaceship…. Wait a sec, I need my reading glasses. There we go… The Spaceship Cheryl. Hmm… I wonder how that got there.

somebody’s Freudian slip

If you can increase the magnification of your telescope, you will see the captain at the helm. The first thing you will notice is that he’s not your typical Buck Rogers type. The hair is too long and it looks like he’s had one too many Coronas. But hey, he’s still alive, moving from one star system to another in his good ship Lollipop. Shouldn’t that be Cheryl. OK, who made the deal for the residuals? Must have been Cheryl. Who signed the movie deal for this pathetic, not going anywhere, story? Bukowski? Come on now, he’s too old! No, he’s dead. Why didn’t Tom Hanks sign? What do you mean he was out of town? More likely out to lunch. These Hollywood types… It’s enough to drive you to an early grave.

reading the Watchtower Bible

So where were we? What do you mean it’s a Union break time? We just started the story! Gee whiz. Is there any coffee in left in the pot? Don’t answer, I know. Grinds. Call me tomorrow will you, I have a headache…

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