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4 Stories (wb04_02) (adult)

The itching was tremendous and it took a few days to finally notice the little welts that were covering the whole enchilada at the yoga class. They announced these classes every weekend, the whole enchilada is a head to toe practice, the only way to be prepared for what was to come, the forces had arranged on the front to annihilate any of the foe that chose which parking spot to take a Whole Foods. If the middle-aged man could pick the parking lot for his date with his tinder date later that night. He had his plans, they were going to eat ribs, no better first date meal than ribs. This first date had to go smoother than all the previous ones. He’d had enough of the hysterical crying, the public face-slapping and drinks thrown in his face. Or as Donald Trump calls it, “A Tuesday!” Ha! An oldie but a goodie, Chet thought, maybe he’d open with it next weekend at the Chuckle Hut. He had a spot on the open mike and he was terrified of looking like a fool the shame wasn’t easy to deal with, but now that he had disposed of her pillowcases, he knew things would be different. Finally, It was time to move on.

Donald wandered aimlessly down the white house hallway, un sure which way to turn, who he might call or frankly what the fuck he was doing there. Then his cell phone rang - Ivanka! It was never a welcomed phone call, but it was particularly hateful on a Monday morning. But he decided to answer it anyway. As if from a dream, the whole area began to tremble as if a volcanic blast was imminent. Instead, hundreds of puppies ran out onto Wilshire Blvd. during the Gay Pride parade in West Hollywood, my stomping grounds when I was wild and not in charge of the wheel. I had people to please a statue to raise, everyone would know my name, which was Mrs. Whatcha-doing face. She was the don-boss of the Fifth Ward, as in Burt Ward, the original robin. So, so classic in those tights as Dick Grayson. His manliness was so perfectly outlined. It was like reading a relief map of her future pleasure.

Official rules suck!! Dogs smell butts, but we love them. We love them then torture them we spread them over the hot coals and watch as they cook, watch as they broil in their own patchulli. God damn hippies! I was punk rock, baby, Lou Reed, Candy Darlings 333rd and 3rd. No what I'm sayin’. And i didn’t truck with it, no way, no how. It was a three-mile walk to the pool hall, but between the storm and everything weighing on their minds, they knew it would seem like ten. Ten saloons was an invincible amount. She would definitely be the ruler of the airport terminal. Never drooping with a nail file. She left that nail salon as quickly as she found it. The ladies there really knew how to rub her feet like a champ.

I never saw a plant I didn’t like except a weed, a weed is always there staring me straight in the face, trying not to look scared. Soon enough, it would be time to attend his annual Superbowl party. He was thrilled, there was Ranch dressing, wings, beer and queso. It didn’t take Richard Nixon’s face mask for a legitimate disguise. It would be better to get an Obama bumper sticker for her Toyota Prius. “How Cliche” she thought to herself as she pulled into the Whole Foods parking lot, noiselessly gliding by the very place where she’d run over the vagrant just three months ago. The deep dark secret was the vagrant was her father who left her family when she was 6 years old and soon she would be in control of her destiny, our future and the peace of my mind.

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