Monday, April 11, 2011

The Letter

The phone vibrated by his computer. It was his mom. 
"Hi, mom. What's up?" 
"There was a letter for you. I didn't get it because it needed your signature. It's from LA County." 
His heart skipped a beat. "Ok..."
"You need to go pick it up. I told them that you are at work and he said that you can pick it up on Saturday. They're open Saturday." 
His mind raced. There are so many things this could be. A few days ago his mom scanned and emailed a letter from the LA County addressed to him. It said something about money being taken by the government. He assumed it was his college debt, which he knew about; UCLA had just taken possession of his state tax return. But this was different. He had no idea what it was about and he did not want anything to do with it. He's had enough trouble with the law to know it never ends well. 
"Ok, I'll get it next week."
"Is this serious? Are you ok?"
"I don't know, mom. I'm at work right now. Can I talk to you later?"
"Ok. I'll scan the note they left me so you can go pick it up."
"Thanks, mom."
"Ok, bye."
"Bye." He hung up with a million thoughts running through his mind. This could be so many things. Did he do something to violate his probation? That would be the worst thing that could happen right now because it would mean jail time, losing his job, and starting all over again. What could it possibly be? 

He suppresses the need to call everyone he knows for answers. There's no point. No one knows what is going on and the only way for him to find out is to pick up the letter, which he can't do this weekend because he's going out of town. 

What could it possibly be?

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Ultimatum

What would you rather have?
My love or your happiness?
Because you can't have both.
Yes, I know. It sucks.
Love sucks in general.

But for you,
Just for you,
I promise I will love you
Except I might not show it the way you want.
I promise I will shed tears when you leave me
Because I will miss having you around.
You might not always feel my love
But I promise it will always be there.
You will probably cry and want my apologies
And I promise it will always be there.

Best of CL: Busted peeing in the sink

Date: 2008-12-09, 9:09AM CST

When it comes to peeing, its great to be a male. Ladies (and fellows with a micro-penis) purse their lips at men's blithe attitude toward convenience when it comes to answering nature's call. We're so crass, rude, disgusting. Right.

You're just fucking envious. And well you should be. It is indescribably wondrous portaging a permanently attached watering hose. Witness "Man, Peeing in Garden," the epitome of casualness. Few, if any, locations are off-limits when the urge is felt: parking garage, deck, the sink...simply too many nouns to list. Still, while decorum is abused, discretion is not--more on this point in a moment.

Oh sure, many a woman has pee'd outside of the pot, though strictly as a matter of urgency and with much reluctance and with great angst. There is no female example of "whipping it out." In fact, yours is a complete show. You fret about the location, the preparation, the sundries, minimizing dribble "christ almighty" it's a fifteen minute ordeal. Men can sort of relate to your dilemma, like when we need to poop and there's no bathroom in sight.

Anyway, I pee in the sink. I've been peeing into bathroom sinks for years. Convenience is my primary reason. But there are many very good reasons to pee in a sink. A few among them:

I can multitask, which is important to me: both my hands are free to brush teeth, comb hair, apply hygiene products, etc. I've never done and empirical study, but I am certain in my gut that cumulative hours are saved annually by peeing in the sink.

It's environmentally conscientious. I conserve water when I pee in the sink. As I wash my hands or rinse my toothbrush, my pee is carried through the p-trap down into the sanitary line. Toilet, sink as George Castanza explained, "It's all pipes!"

It's the "green" thing to do. By peeing on dried toothpaste, solidified lungers, loose hair, and other lingering yuckiness stuck inside the sink, I save still more water and reduce phosphates and other nasty chemicals that might otherwise have been used to clean the sink.

It's considerate. Regardless whether my girlie is sleeping, watching television, reading in silence, I do not disturb her with a cacophonous serenade of "man-peeing-into-toilet-then-flushing." Peeing into a sink is very quiet.

It's clean. There is no toilet water splash nor urine splatter on walls, seat or in the crannies of the commode. Here I bandy the duel argument of "less work" (by not scrubbing said surfaces after each use) and, consequently, "more green" (requires less use of environmentally harmful cleaning chemicals). Pee is, for the most part, sterile when it hits the sink, so no need to use expensive disinfectant. Thus I submit another good, albeit tenuous, reason I pee in the sink: it saves money.

It builds "relationship equity." The seat is always down, which appears to my girlie as sublimely considerate and one those "little things" I do for her. This manifests, somehow, in better sex.

It's hygienic. After my stream has diminished to a trickle, I splash a handful or two of water on my dick, thus washing it. I have a clean dick and I put my dick up against the dick of any "traditional" toilet user for some quantitative dick evaluation; eg.: stiff test, taste test. Rub my dick against glass and it squeaks.

I can think of violently few disadvantages to peeing in a sink. Off the top of my head:

- peeing into a sink after eating asparagus is very unpleasant;
- fishing a contact lens out of the sink while "multitasking" is disturbing; and,
- reflexive tumescence may result from the splash of overly cold or hot water, which can have messy consequences.

I confess that a lifetime of casually whipping it out and letting go when and wherever has caused my "Emergency Pee Shut Off" muscle, assuming it ever existed, to atrophy. Richard Pryor was correct that a man cannot cut off his stream "just like that."

I am aware that this technique d'avant garde might offend the eyeballs of an accidental witness, so I always exercise discretion when I pee in the sink. That said, peeing in the sink is so routine for me that I am complacent, and I never thought up a contingency plan should someone walk in on me.

Just this morning my girlie busted me peeing in the sink, rather (as I now understand), "her" sink. She fucking had a cow and slapped my dick hard like it was a big hairy fucking spider on the countertop.

Thus I know from experience that getting caught peeing in the sink does not garner even the tiniest, wee little bit of appreciation of or for any of those benefits I mentioned above. Therefore, heed this exhortation: make damn site sure no one will walk in as you pee in the sink.

So there I am this morning, brushing my teeth in front of the mirror and quietly contemplating my day while a night's worth of pee drained out of my unlimbered dick laying in the sink. My girlie sneaked up behind me topless as a playful, sexy morning surprise, and so intended, she was oblivious to my present commitment. She might as well have tossed a glass of ice water on my back cause with the sudden and unexpected feeling of her hands around my midriff, I reflexively jerked up and away from the sink. My flaccid dick tossed about mid-stream until I could completely close down the relief valve. I was untethered for no more than.. what.. two seconds, but it seemed like I peed on fucking everything, including her jewelry box and her basket of stretchy hair things, both of which she was real unhappy about upon discovery. Miraculously, I missed her. She was incredulous. I sensed a radar-lock on my groin area and my hand moved instinctively to my protect my dick, but I was too slow. With the speed of a fucking praying mantis, she lashed at my dick and nailed it good. I hollered "what the fuck," spewing frothy toothpaste on her, which only added to the indignity and intensified her fury. It was a fucking show this morning in our, rather, her bathroom.

I didn't learn any lessons this morning (except maybe to lock the bathroom door). I did learn that my girlie is irrational and uptight about this particular issue. Frankly, fuck if I know what to do or what to say to her come this evening. I'm going to go to the restroom and take a good long look at myself in the mirror, mostly because I'll be peeing in the sink, but also to steel my nerve and strategize for tonite.

Location: in my bathroom

    Wednesday, April 6, 2011

    Looking out the window

    James looked out the glass door from his desk at the freight truck parked by the sidewalk. That truck is there every day without fail, at the same time to meet up with the same person. The truck usually parks a little before noon and a hispanic lady would walk out from the building next door 10 minutes later. The driver would open the passenger door for her and they would sit there for about an hour. They would eat and afterwards, they would go their separate ways. He's probably off to deliver stuff and she'll go back to her desk job.

    James often wondered, what is their story? Is she a mistress? A friend? A wife? And what does she do? Is she a secretary or something? What about him? Is he just a loving husband who's trying to spend time with his wife? Or is he a deadbeat who's trying to slack off? 

    He remembers back to a time when he visited his girlfriends at school, work, or the hospital. Those were good times. Everyone was happy. He would often get compliments on being such a great and loving boyfriend, bringing their favorite food and spending time with them. He was young, unemployed, and had too much time on his hands. It was perfect but only for so long. It never lasted.

    Once, he had a girlfriend that tried to commit suicide. Actually, that happened twice with two different girls. He called the police both times, and both times they were arrested and taken to a hospital. Ironically, he had to spend the night with them as a last gesture of affection before he broke up with them for good and disappeared out of their lives.

    Loneliness he can live with. Death he can't. Some people ought to be alone. 

    Friday, April 1, 2011

    The Heat and Friday

    James chuckled to himself as he read the news article off his computer. It was about his cousin's neighbor. Apparently, the house was rented out to someone that grew marijuana, and it had an elaborate system costing over 40k.

    "ROWLAND HEIGHTS - Sheriffs detectives discovered a secret pot plantation at a home in Rowland Heights Thursday afternoon.

    Los Angeles County Sheriffs undercover narcotics detectives began removing approximately 725 marijuana plants from the well landscaped, upscale home around 3 p.m. Thursday.

    The renters had been in the home on the 1300 block of Otterbein Avenue for 8 months and were stealing upwards of $3,000 a month in electricity.

    The owners hadn't been able to get in touch with the tenants and asked deputies to make a quick check on the home.

    When deputies entered, they found every room was being used for the high end marijuana grow, which contained high levels of THC.

    "This is a really sophisticated grow," Deputy German Perez told KTLA. "This is one of the best I've seen.
    The estimated street value of the drugs inside were about $1.8 million dollars, Perez said.

    The bust was "totally unexpected," one neighbor told KTLA. "I did not know our neighbors had this big operation going on."

    Some neighbors did notice people coming to the home late at night but did not smell anything suspicious.

    Deputies said the suspects were using a $40,000 ventilation system.

    The suspects are still at large."


    He found this funny because a week before his cousin told him he suspected the house was used as a grow house. Turns out he was right.

    James surfed the internet some more at work before heading out to McDonald's for Filet-O-Fish Fridays. It's the only time of the year where he can justify gorging on McDonald's because of the Filet-O-Fish sale for Lent. As expected, there were long lines and people were irate from the sudden summer heat. Just 3 days ago it was cold and raining. Now, it's absurdly hot. 

    He ordered the usual 6 sandwiches, 4 for now and 2 for later. As his weekly tradition, he'll make a double Filet-O-Fish.


    And as always, he felt sick afterwards. The human body wasn't meant to consume so many calories in one sitting. Good thing it's only once a week until Easter.