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Friday, October 30, 2020

Faces Like Freshly Wiped Assholes


I read that line—or something similar—in a short story by Jordan Harper. Only five shopping days left before the apocalypse.

Thursday, October 29, 2020

Spoiler Alert

I was making garbanzo beans in my pressure cooker, just about ready to put the lid on, which is the point of no return. There’s no going back. Are you absolutely sure you want to put that lid on, kid? I wasn’t. All I had for vegetables were onions and a can of tomatoes. I actually had the lid in my hand when I remembered that I had bought some zucchini the day before yesterday.

For some strange reason, I had bought three zucchinis, which just seemed like one, maybe two too many. I cut up two of them and threw them in the pot, which left me with one zucchini. What the fuck was I going to do with one zucchini?

I racked my brain and I couldn’t remember one single instance in which a dish was spoiled because of an obsessive amount of zucchini, not one. I threw in the third zucchini.

The real reason I wrote this essay was to practice writing the word “zucchini” that I can never manage to spell correctly. Zucchini with two Cs and only one N.

Thursday, October 15, 2020

Noise Pollution Delivery System

I was sitting in one of my cafés the other day, minding my own damn business, when my tranquility was violently interrupted by the pounding of insufferably bad dance beats which are not to be mistaken for music. The godawful racket was right behind me, coming from this monstrosity of an automobile.

If someone were to offer this ridiculous car to me for free, but stipulated that I had to play at full volume the obscene trash this person was blasting on his stereo system which probably cost more than most people’s entire automobile, I’d politely decline. I’d rather take the bus.

I could only imagine that this gay disco on wheels belonged to a footballer, as we don't have many cartel leaders in this part of Spain. I suppose that this thing is made for pulling up to the valet parking at a trendy night spot, but taking it to run errands on a Saturday morning seems embarrassingly absurd, or absurdly embarrassing.