Gonorrhea Man About Town
So when I take Roscoe for a walks we usually go the same routes. I've met alot of neighborhood people along the way. Regular neighborhood kids who like to run out and see Roscoe. A guy who works as a grip on the Sopranos (which was coolio). A local bartender who's really cute. The old lady who likes to sit on her stoop. The guy who watches the flowers in front of the bodega. So I've been doing alot of stop and chats. It's sorta nice. And yesterday I was in a extra good mood because Roscoe was bouncy and back on his feet. It was a nice day and I headed out wearing a tshirt, offwhite shorts and birkenstocks.
I did a whole stretch of stop and chats. I wasn't in a hurry and whatever. I talked with Soprano guy. I talked with cute bartenderette. The neighborhood kids. Some familiar randoms. I felt pretty cool neighborhoody and all that totally. It's weird for me to go out and talk to people because I never really used to before. But I felt pretty good about myself. Like I was a real person and stuff.
Anyway, I get home and look down at myself and right away... I remembered the stain! The stain I made during lunch right on the crotch of my pants. I was eating a burger and I gave myself a stain. It was a mustard burger dripping. It dried into a yellow-ish, brownish blop. Low down next to my zipper on the right. I stared at that stain. And the odd gross color. And the fact that it was the only stain on my pants. And it wasn't a splatter. It was perfectly round... gross... stain.
Basically the stain looked like it was made on the inside. OK? Need I say more?
Ok I will.