The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Then the hairs on my head stood up. Then the hairs on my eyebrows stood up. Then my chest hairs stood up. Then my leg and arm hairs stood up. Then I ran out of hair product so I went down to the drugstore and that's when I saw the phenomenon.
I was sitting on the back porch, studying for a big test in my Advanced Metaphor class. It came from the east like a... I don't know. I'm sorry. I can't help. I failed my test. Failed it like a bison.
Was the middle of the night one minute, then the whole damn sky lit up. I staggered out of the alley to get a better look, my half-full bottle of Mad Dog 20/20 in hand. After wiping my mouth with a shaking forearm all slow-like, I looked at the bottle with a comical expression and threw it over my shoulder.
Been a wino for well on twenty years now. Board certified, licensed, the whole deal. Suppose I'll have to train in a new field, like computers or somethin', but lord knows how I'm going to put food on the table in the meantime.
There was this ball of light that was tiny and massive, all at the same time. I know it sounds crazy, but it was. It appeared to be motionless, but it had to be moving at incredible speeds.
I'm just not eloquent enough to describe it. The only people that could possibly put it into words are Dan Brown and that chick who wrote Twilight.
I was just sitting down to breakfast when it happened. It was large, with many layers. Each layer was a different color, first golden then white then brown then golden again. It made no noise whatsoever. It was a pretty great egg sandwich, even if the bacon was a bit undercooked for my tastes.
Saw it with my own eyes. Well, one of my own eyes. The other's a transplant from some teenager that died when he got out of his car and danced in front of it while it was still rolling down the street. Poor kid didn't see the heart attack coming.
So yeah, I saw it with one of my own eyes and someone else's eye, which may count as another of my own eyes, depending on whether you're in the or the "possess a body part" or the "born with it" camp.
I've certainly heard from both sides over the years. Got a fair number of pamphlets, took the online quizzes, even went to a few conventions. Still not sure where I fall. I just know that when I finally pick a camp and lay down in that sleeping bag with the camp's name embroidered on the side (I'm not being metaphorical, they have actual camps where everyone has to stay) I'll have a hell of a time falling asleep.
Why? That kid's eye, it haunts me. Tells me all about Christmases past, present, and future. Insists night after night that I change my ways, treat my employees better, eat organic foods, refrain from pirating Electronic Arts software.
But yes, I saw it with at least one of my own eyes. Actually, wait. I'm just fucking with you. The eye kept me up really late the night before so I slept in. Didn't see a thing.
I gathered my kids. I gathered them all up and held them tight as the heat bore down on us. For the first time in their lives I told them that I loved them. What was one lie at the end of a sinful, wasted life?
Ferguson's long arm of the law laments the latest cutback.
Simply put, if I had Johnny Manziel’s physical gifts, you better believe I would be there in the Weight Room, getting to bed early, doing whatever I had to do to be the best possible athlete I could be. I wouldn't be posting on social media about sucking titties. I wouldn't even look at a titty, buddy. I'd look at a titty and see two big footballs.
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