Wednesday, March 7, 2012
So I close the blinds and scuttle back to my recliner. And only one thought crosses my mind: I need to stalk your old, fine ass from the other window. I expect her voice to be as sweet as a Georgia peach. To reflect the nectar that she is. Instead, her bushy brows scrunch into a frown. I give my best smile. And when she talks, I know my diaper is about to get full. "Who the cockamamie are you?" I'm blinded by her grin, and her teeth's are just as straight and as pretty as can be. I bet my whole half dollar collection she uses Polident. Just like me.