If I were trying to live like Hank Moody
From Californication, I may have atleast got the ride down…
This morning around 3am
You know, the hours that only the Flu
Your newborn
And
That much younger version of you still believes in…
I was getting ready for work
My night blindness is apparently real before coffee, I pulled out of my parking spot to a (((crunch ))) potato chips would envy…
I got out to find that I had ran all over my other car, turning too sharply…
Now I have a locomotive over zealous sized dent in the car I inherently hate…
Maybe the thing we hate knows this…
Maybe we do project pain into areas
Or people …
Maybe Moby Dick was really about ego
Or maybe it was about a fish
Maybe Hank Moody creates his own swirling black hole of chaos
Maybe it’s the murder hornets,
I just want to insert here
These hornets have been in Alabama for decades, maybe the news just didn’t notice or didn’t care…
I knew them
Because of the sound of their engines while flying
And the rapid firing of their guns…
If they hit you, you would be down for a couple of days with a pain that made you hope you would just lose the limb…
Why were they hunting me? Circling the house, waiting for me to come outside?
Beats me, I guess they didn’t like getting covered in shaving cream or white rain hairspray…note…hornets, unlike other insects have the amazing ability to get so pissed off, like a red headed ex…
They just burn through the hairspray…and then they’re looking at you kid.
I’m going to have to figure out how to pop the dent out of a door now…
Regarding Samuel 