Limited

8 months after ladder fall:

The wrist snaps.
Tail bone could use a few naps.
The legs ache.
The pain I take.

The wrist ain't a cereal but cracks & pops.
Tail bone's no cushioned mop.
The legs hurt tight.
I constantly fight.

The wrist's stiff.
Tail bone could use a lift.
The legs sometimes limp.
And then I'm a gimp.

The Perverted Phone Survey

"Hello. Who's this?
Sure. Why not. Anything to help out your census.

Almost every day. Sometimes I take a day or 2 off though.
And I'm not interested during the heavy days at all.

My best time has been clocked-in at 3 minutes.
I can go as long as 22, but 15 is about average.

The 2nd one comes right away. Within 1 or 2 after the 1st.
However, the 3rd one takes longer than the 2nd,
but not as long as the 1st.

Well, usually 3 before work, unless I'm running late.
I allow about 15-20, but sometimes I only have 5 to spare.
But I've been known to have 2 in 5, and 3 in 6 or 7.
But if I go for 6 or 7, I have to make up time. You know, like cut something out, so I usually eat in the car on my way to work.

When I'm off from work, 6 is usually the number.
Sometimes I'll have 3, take a 2 or 3 hour break,
then go for another 3.
Or 6 in 1 setting, but not usually.

Best time is right after a shower.
Late afternoon is a good time too.

Alright. Glad to help. Thank you.

What? No I am not playing with myself. What am I wearing? No, that's disgusting. No! Who is this again?"

The Rented Hour

The water splashed in my face as I met the wind and I felt free at last. From high in the air I lunged into the waves while the winds and boats made love to the ocean. I zoomed away from my friend after our idle time together to enjoy the fast moving motorcycle on water. No looking back until it was too late, for I had lost my friend as he became just a small figure to the wonders of the big deep pool. No one in sight as I continued my run. Oh there goes a tiny little speed boat, I jumped their waves as I held on tightly to the handle bars.

The worrisome of looking both ways sped along with my journey. They made us watch a safety video. Don't want to be clobbered by a moving object on my motorbike. Damn, I worried the whole hour of crashing into someone to become either hurt or killed. But the fear didn't stop me from excelling fast and enjoying the moving waters. Moments of feeling free, but the worry really never left.

One hour isn't long enough. Damn, I'm far away. Where is my friend? I stopped for a few seconds to enjoy the short time I had left out here in the big waters. To maybe see a few dolphins like I did last time, but none in sight. Thinking if I had enough time to change my return route instead of the straight line I took to get here to nowhere.

As I headed back, the wind became my enemy as the strong waters shot bullets into my eyes, no matter what speed or route I decided to take back. With one eye shut and the other opened as they took turns, I knew I was loosing face, not sure if I can make the timed hour.

At some point, I closed both eyes together tightly to readjust the wicked salt that flew in them. Moments later, when I reopened one eye, I realized that I was flying dead on into a massive metal buoy. I swerved and missed it by a couple of inches, but the high waves and my sudden left turn jerked me off the wave runner and I flew high in the air and landed in the deep cold water.

I gathered myself and swam to the cycle. I was kind of worried that I might be eaten by a shark. I always had that fear. I noticed a familiar hat that looked like my friend's, floating in the water nearby the slightly invisible buoy. I didn't pick it up nor did I do any further investigations, because I was running out of time and didn't want to be late. But I wondered if my friend was okay or did I just leave him behind?

It took a few times to climb back on the bike, for my right wrist isn't that strong and flexible since my ladder fall. I had to use my forearm in place of my wrist to pull myself back up. I continued on with the strong winds and waters that battled against me and thought for sure that I would surpass my rented hour and my friend was left for dead.

In the end, I never found my friend. I wished I would have at least saved his hat. But I did make it back on time, barely.

The Arguer

I had issues letting my ex run the house renovation project. For good reasons. Not that he could do a good job, but the fact that we just don't get along. And he doesn't see that. He sees that I went with other people instead of him. I wanted peace of mind. I knew it would be a disaster going with him. I didn't want the constant fight and bicker. But that's his middle name. He loves the challenge of arguments.

So I'm low on funds from all the butt fucking without lubrication, and decided to finally give the ex a chance. I knew he wouldn't fuck me up like the last 2 guys did, but I also knew that I would have to pay a stressful price with our severe communication problem in our dysfunctional relationship.

I wish he would stop bitching and moaning and playing the blame game: "I should have done this," "If you would have listened to me," "That's just stupid," "It's not my fault". On and on and on like that bunny with the battery.

I don't care. I don't want to hear it. Move forward and get the job fucking done!

"Why do you have to fight me on everything?"
"No I don't."

A Lost Fear

A plane flies over my house
and the loud sound of it seems close by.

For years I used to fear a plane crashing down
hitting my house as I lay on my back in bed
naked while masturbating.
And the thought continued
that later I would be found,
naked, with a device inside of me.

In this thought of mine I didn't fear dying
I just feared what people might have seen.
And then I thought
maybe one day they would all laugh
and tell a story of a girl they found dead
who had been masturbating right as the plane crashed.
And someone would say
at least she was feeling good right before she went away.

The Salad -- A Cracked Egg

"I'm always early!" the bubbly Egg cheered. The new manager arrived this week, replacing sliced Karrot. "I would just get stir crazy if I was 3 minutes late" she added. She arrived 1 hour before her shift began. I wanted to chime in with a laugh "I'm usually always on time, never early and sometimes late!" but I didn't. The eager Egg has to sit high on the wall. She would probably not appreciate my humor.

"Come on you guys, what's going on? You haven't made your numbers in quite a while. I'm a numbers person and I am use to getting results," she bellowed. I don't know who she thinks she's talking to, I use to count money for a hobby.

"My restaurant was in the top 5 in the company for the last 9 months" she bragged. The anxious Egg managed one of the restaurants in Philly. Well, lets look at the real numbers as to why her stats were so good. All 11 restaurants recently closed down in Philly in the last year. And then her business started booming. Hmm, I wonder why? Is it because her restaurant was the last one standing? No, I think it's because she's just awesome! What's interesting enough is why did all the restaurants close in that area? And then a few months later her restaurant closed for good. Was it lease problems in all 12 locations? I don't believe all 12 restaurants had the same lease problem. Just my statistical analysis point of view.

I guess the delusional Egg wasn't informed that our restaurant was in the top 3 in the country a couple of years ago, right after the famous Katrina rolled in. I wonder why our numbers were so great back then? We had the same people working for us as we do today. Was it because a lot of businesses were closed down and the few people in town were looking for somewhere to eat. Nah, I think it's because we're awesome!

We've been fighting those numbers ever since the busy days after Katrina. Not to mention that the sluggish economy has kept almost all businesses down, across the board, well except for her flourishing restaurant, that also closed. Go figure.

"I'm use to working from open to close" the little Egg declared, almost shocking us. But then we found out the little chipped Egg's restaurant was only open for lunch. Like the one I ran uptown, a few years ago. And further more, her restaurant dealt in smaller volume than my uptown location.

Our restaurant does 3.5 times the volume more than the one she ran in Philly. In volume and size. And the foot traffic, well it's massive compared to her previous Philly location.

I wonder why the cracked Egg was chosen? She's missing some yolk with her delusions of grandeur. But I'll give the little critter a chance to see if she can pull the numbers in. She's excited and motivated with her unrealistic fomulas. I'll wait until until she's fried to give further analysis.

The Salad -- No Beet

Beet's leaving the salad. She realizes that the salad's wilted and wants a fresh salad to toss around. At least her beetings will be gone, and hopefully I won't get anymore.

The Lame Lay

I just laid there,
staring at the ceiling
as she pumped away
at me.
I could barely move
as she dug her claws
into me.
I closed my eyes a few times
and waited for her to stop.
But she kept poking
inside of me.
I felt my blood and juices come
out of me.
I was on my period,
but that didn't matter.
Her fingers were
inside of me
and more of my juices poured
out of me.

She had me pinned down
and made me hold a device
as she continued to pound away
inside of me.
I usually just lay there
and let someone else do all the work.
But this time was different,
I had to participate.
Even though my juices flowed,
you would have thought I was enjoying it.
But I wasn't.
I wanted to take a break,
so I could catch my breath.
But she did not allow it
or even notice
that I wanted one,
for her face was buried
in my insides.
I knew I would be
sore for a couple of days.

And when it was over,
I wiped my blood and spit
from my face.
Then paid and left.
My buildup of

gutterpunk plaque
was gone.

The Salad

All "The Vegetable" series are now refered to "The Salad". We are all in a bowl mixed in with each other, fighting for survivor before we get eaten, beaten, or spit out.

Wanting A Renovation Rescue

I'm lost. I don't know what to do.

My house has been under renovation for over a year now, not much done. Hired the wrong people and wasted more money & time on their fuck-ups. I can't finish the project. I have a full-time+ job. I want someone to take over and do a good job.

I would like to give the job to my ex-boyfriend. He would charge me less than what contractors charge. However, he's always busy with his other job, and when he is free, he's unavailable. He was hired 2 months ago, and nothing has been done, nor any initiative/plan to get it done. He'll come up with excuses that he can't get a whole of me, but the fact is, he has a key to the house and I can be contacted thru email and phone. He has said he has left me messages and I haven't returned his phone call. It's interesting, b/c I've called him several times in the last 2 months and he has always been busy with his job, taking a mini-vacation, or watching a game. And when we have been in contact with each other, he wasn't available to talk. But he blames me, and then we argue and hang up on each other.

Yes, I know the simple answer. My ex-boyfriend is confident of taking over, but he has to blame me for not getting in touch with me. But he has free range. It's too much drama.

I am currently getting an estimate from another contractor. It's going to be expensive. And I can't afford him. The contractor has already mentioned he charges anywhere from $50 to $100 per sq ft. I asked the contractor if he would take the entire sq footage of 1800, even when 600 of it is almost completely done. And he said yes. So if he were to take this job, at minimum, it will cost me $85,000 to complete. This was a rough figure. He is going to give me a more accurate written estimate in a couple of days.

I want this to go away. And I don't have the money for this contractor. I would like to give this project to my ex-boyfriend. He would make money. I would not spend as much. And a good project would be had. But I don't see the light.